


Paint Brushes and Spellbooks

by Chiechie97



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drama & Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Love Triangles, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Pining, Resolved Sexual Tension, Romance, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Tension, Truth or Dare, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 35,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28135377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chiechie97/pseuds/Chiechie97
Summary: It had always been Fred for as long as she remembered.So why should it suddenly be George?Carly Halloway has spent her five years at Hogwarts In love with her best friend and she sees no reason for that to change. After all, he loves her too right? But as the war rages Carly finds herself drawn to the person she had never considered before. And as feelings change, and Carly finds herself in limbo.
Relationships: Angelina Johnson/Fred Weasley, Fred Weasley & George Weasley, Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s), George Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 31
Kudos: 55





	1. Train Rides and Backstories

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! Please leave a comment if you feel like it, they mean the world and keep me writing!!

Fred Fred Fred Fred Fred.

It had always been Fred for as long as she remembered.

For as long as she remembered being interested in boys, it had been Fred, her best friend.

He was loud and wild. The wind whipping between trees, the sparks jumping from burning logs, and the static shock that moved up your spine and made the hair on your neck stand on edge.

Carly Everett Halloway was completely and utterly in love with Fred Gideon Weasley.

When they had moments like this, she thought he loved her too. His arm slung over her shoulders as he laughed at something Lee was saying as the train brought them back to London.

"So what about it, Carly? Are you coming?" Lee asked

"Sorry, what?" She responded, Lee's question snapping her back to reality

"I asked if you were coming to the burrow this summer?" Lee laughed, giving her a knowing look

"Oh yeah, for August!" She grinned, nudging Fred in the rib cage. "Molly promised to show me baby pictures of this doofus."

"I resent that you have permission to call my mother by her first name," he groaned.

"What can I say? I'm her favourite," she grinned "it's going to be a busy house; Harry and Hermione are coming for August too, right?"

"Yep," Fred said, "can't wait to watch my brother make a fool of himself in front of Hermione all summer."

"Oh, come off it," George chimed in, finally looking up from his notebook that he'd been scribbling in since the train left Hogwarts. "He's not nearly as bad as Ginny will be around Harry."

"Poor little sis, she's so in love with him," Fred sighed dramatically, "but he's a stand-up guy. At least she has good taste."

George grinned and went back to his notebook.

Fred and George. The two most mischievous people to have ever graced the halls of Hogwarts, never one without the other.

Where Fred was the wild of the storm, George was the calm before and after it. He was the rain that put out the forest fires, the calming voice in the midst of a shouting match, the balm that soothed burns and scraped knuckles.

But where Fred kept her tucked into his side, George kept her at arm's length. Something she had never been able to figure out. She spent as much time with George as she did with Fred, a default really as it was Fred she was there to see.

George's disdain for her wasn't obvious, but he would purse his lips slightly when she slid into the seat beside Fred. He would make an excuse to leave when she and Fred would laugh over the ridiculousness that was their divination homework. And would often walk ahead of them with the rest of the Gryffindor team whenever she would walk down to the matches to cheer them on.

She had never been able to figure out why. But at least it gave her alone time with Fred. Since she was a child, she had stuck to Fred like glue, and he stuck to her likewise.

Her mum and Mrs. Weasley had been friends at Hogwarts, and it was Mrs. Weasley's stories of her mum that kept her alive in Carly's mind.

"Oh Carly, you look so like her," Mrs. Weasley would say, her eyes misty "your eyes, her nose, it's like Jacinda is here now."

Carly's mother died in childbirth. A few weeks prior, her father, a muggle-born, was killed by death eaters. Since then, Carly had been raised by her aunt Melanie and her aunt's partner Lucy, both of whom were muggles. The Weasleys had been her source for a magical childhood, and she couldn't imagine them not being in her life.

Lee's voice snapped her from the burrow back to their train compartment.

"I wish I could come for more than a week, but Grandma Jordan is coming to visit for most of august," Lee sighed "can't wait to listen to gospel every morning."

"I always forget your dad's half of the family is Muggle American," Carly grinned, trying to imagine Lee in an American setting.

"Yeah, always fun political discussions there," Fred laughed, moving his arm from Carly's shoulders, taking with it the comforting weight she always sought.

Summer was always her favourite time of year. While she loved Hogwarts more than anything, getting to spend her summers with her family, and then Fred's family, was always a yearly highlight.

Carly's aunt always joked that she was well prepared for when she and Fred got married cause she was used to splitting holidays with his family.

Just then, the compartment door slid open, and Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson, two other members of the Gryffindor quidditch team, entered.

"Had to leave Woods compartment," Angelina said, sitting down on the other side of Fred, "wouldn't shut up about Pudlemore United."

"Yeah, I love the kid, but I'm sick of hearing about it," Alicia added.

Both Alicia and Angelina were on the quidditch team with Fred and George. As much as Carly wished she could play quidditch, her intense fear of heights had always prevented her from hopping on a broom and joining in the fun. Even watching quidditch matches could make her uneasy, but she went because of Fred.

"Can't believe Woods leaving," Carly said, shaking her head "whose going to send howlers to our dorm to wake you two up for morning practice"

"Hopefully not one of these two numpties," Angelina laughed, nudging Fred with her elbow. "I don't think anything would get done at practice."

"I object to that!" Fred exclaimed, nudging her back.

"Are you guys going to the quidditch world cup?" Alicia asked, sitting down on Carly's knee; Carly wrapped her arms around her friend's waist. Lee always joked the two of them took after Carly's Aunts because they had developed a habit of sitting on one another, even when there was space for seating elsewhere. "Carly is Melanie and Alicia is Lucy," he would laugh.

"I'm hoping my parents will be able to nab tickets," Angelina sighed. "But I'm not sure if we'll be able to get them, what with the excitement around this match. Are you going, Fred?"

"Yeah, the whole family is going," Fred said excitedly, "we're dragging three strays with us, but most of them aren't a bother."

"Most of them?" Angelina laughed

"Yeah, unfortunately, Halloway has to come," he grinned.

"Molly said she was happy to have me," Carly retorted, matching his grin.

"Stop calling my mom Molly!"

When the train finally pulled into the station, Carly was reluctant to leave her friends.

"Oh, come on, Carls," Fred laughed, wrapping her in a tight bear hug. "I'll see you in a few weeks!"

"I know," she murmured into his chest. "You better write to me this summer, you dolt."

"Come on, Freddie, mums calling," George said, pulling his brother away from Carly.

"Bye, Carls!" Fred called back, waving over his shoulder, "see you in a few weeks."

George didn't say anything.


	2. Painting and Bad Habits

Carly had paint in her eye.

And she was not happy about it.

Her Aunt Lucy was an artist, and being raised in an art studio meant that Carly's love for painting was innate; what wasn't innate was learning new painting techniques. And her aunt's idea of chucking paint-filled balloons at a sheet of glass had ended in disaster, which is how Carly found herself with her head under the tap, rinsing red paint out of her eye.

"You know it doesn't look too bad," her aunt mused.

"What my swollen eye?" Carly huffed, turning the tap off

"No, the glass," Lucy smirked, turning back to her adopted niece, "your eye, on the other hand, looks terrible."

And she wasn't wrong. Carlys left eye was puffy and swollen. She looked like she had been punched.

"Just tell people you won a fight," her Aunt laughed, tossing her a towel to dry off with. Carly looked like a drowned rat.

"Sure, I lost a fight with a paint balloon," Carly grumbled.

"I'm sure Fred will find you cute either way," her aunt winked.

Carly felt her cheeks turn as red as her eye.

"What's going on with you two," Lucy asked, leaning against the paint-splattered work table. "I still can't wrap my head around you two not being official yet."

"I don't know," Carly sighed, "we've been friends for so long, I'm sort of scared to mess that up."

"But you two are practically married. Just get over your nerves and snog him," Lucy advised pointing a paintbrush at her niece.

"Who is Carly snogging," Her aunt Melanie asked, coming in carrying a tray of tea and sandwiches. "And what happened to Carly's eye?" She questioned, shooting her partner a look

"Well, we were talking about Carly snogging Fred," Lucy said, pecking Melanie on the cheek, "and her eye is the result of a paint mishap."

Carly grinned, picking up a sandwich from the tray. "I thought I won a fight."

"That's what we tell the public," Lucy grinned back, sliding her arm around Melanie's waist."Are you just gonna slide past Carly snogging Fred" Melanie questioned, raising an eyebrow at her girlfriend and her niece, "because I still need to know if I need to modify the talk to apply to wizards, in which case I will be writing to Molly?"

Carly choked on her sandwich. "I haven't snogged Fred, and please do not write to Molly about that sort of thing!"

"Well, I'm just trying to be a proactive auntie," Melanie said, frowning "really, is it different? Do witches and wizards use condoms?"

"I do not want to have this conversation," Carly cried, feeling her face turn even redder.

"Fine, fine!" Melanie said, putting up her hands in defence, "but don't keep us out of the loop with you and Fred." 

"Nothing is going on to keep you in the loop about," Carly laughed. "For now, we're friends."

"For now?" Lucy grinned, raising an eyebrow at Carly 

"Yes. for now," Carly said, taking a big bite of her sandwich and shooting her aunts a pointed look.

..............................................................................

The one thing Carly loved about living in London was that she could go to Diagon Alley whenever she wanted; her aunts had always taken a bit of a free-roaming child-rearing approach with her, so she had spent her childhood exploring the different shops and alleys of muggle London and Diagon Alley. Given that her father had been a wizard, her aunt Melanie had grown up around magic and did her best to allow her to see the wizarding world, but she had had a distinctly muggle childhood. She went to muggle primary school, played Junior Sunday night football with her aunt's junior pride society team, took swimming lessons at the local Y, and went on road trips and vacations with her aunts. But her aunt always made sure there were wizarding children's books on hand and that she spent a few weeks of the year with the Weasleys. 

Her free-roaming around London meant that she got to show Alicia all her favourite record stores and book shops, as well as the second-hand stores that stocked shoulder-padded suit jackets and high-waisted jeans. She also got to show her the pub in the west end that didn't card because the ancient bartender was too blind to read IDs and preferred to tell stories about his war campaign through Belgium.

Alicia took a deep drought of her beer. "I still can't believe we've been getting away with this place since the fourth year."

"Me either," Carly laughed, taking a pull of her cigarette and adjusting the sunglasses covering her swollen eye. "I wish the hogshead would let us in. I've heard they're loose with their firewhisky."

"You could always ask your aunt Lucy to send you some bottles of liquor. She would do it!" Alicia laughed

"Yeah, and my aunt Melanie would somehow find out and kill both of us," Carly retorted, stubbing her cigarette into the ashtray on their table.

"Both of your aunts would kill you if they knew you smoked," Alicia said, wrinkling her nose at the remnants of her friend's fag "really, you said you were going to quit."

"And I am!" Carly said, picking up her beer and taking a sip "this year, I promise, and anyways you're the only person who knows."

"Not even Fred?" Alicia asked, shooting Carly a look 

"No, not even Fred," Carly said, rolling her eyes at Alicia "he has a blabbermouth, he would tell Molly, and she's the last person in the world I want a lecture from."

"What's going on with you two anyway? Lee and I were both expecting you two to be together by now," Alicia questioned. "I bet it would happen fourth year, he bet fifth, and now it's sixth. What's taking so long?" 

"I don't know, honestly," Carly sighed. "It feels like we're a couple in every way except-"

"The shagging?" Alicia asked, tipping her beer at Carly 

"I was going to say snogging, but sure let's go with shagging" Carly blushed. "Sometimes it feels like I'm reading too much into it, but other times I'm so sure he likes me too."

"I can honestly say I've never had a bloke act the way Fred does to you, act towards me, and it did not mean more than friendship" Alicia shrugged. "I think you need to make a move. You're going to the burrow next week. Just make a move and go for it!" 

"It would be a lot easier to do so if George didn't hate me," Carly said. "I feel like I'm infringing on their whole twin bond. He hates when I'm around."

"George doesn't hate you!" Alicia assured her, "he doesn't hate anyone, well, maybe a few members of the Slytherin quidditch team, but he doesn't hate you."

"Then tell me why he ignores me when we're all in a group? And avoids me being near me?" Cary responded, "It genuinely feels like he hates me being around."

"It's probably just odd being the third wheel," Alicia shrugged. "He just needs to find his Carly, you know?"

"Yeah," she mused, "His Carly."


	3. Bad Advice and Awkward Talks

"School books?"

"Packed."

"Uniform?"

"Packed."

"Owl treats?"

"Packed."

"Matching bra and knickers to seduce your best friend?"

"Lucy!" Carly cried, chucking a pair of socks at her aunt. "Really, you're supposed to be the adult here."

"Hey, I'm just saying, that's how I got Melanie, might work on blokes too" Her aunt grinned, tossing the socks back to her niece.

"You're not supposed to be encouraging promiscuous behaviour," Carly laughed, mimicking her aunt Melanie's shpiel. Lucy had taken to suggesting more and more ridiculous ways to make a move on Fred, and Melanie hadn't been too ecstatic about all of them. "Really, Mels remember how we used to be when we were their age? Remember that old unused classroom in the basement of Merton college? We used to meet up and-" Lucy had been cut off with one swift glare from Melanie.

"Now, you're sure you have everything?" Melanie said, coming in the room with a pile of fresh laundry and placing them into Carly's trunk. "I don't want any panicked letters home about forgetting all your bras again."

"Now there's an idea!" Lucy said, pointing a finger at Carly

"Lucy, stop it!" Melanie said sternly

"Alright, alright," Lucy sighed, putting up her hands in defeat. "I'll go make sure the fireplace is properly cleaned out. Hate how much ash gets dragged in with fireplace travel."

"It's called the floo network," Carly called to her aunts, retreating back.

"Now Carly," her aunt Melanie said, sitting down on her bed, picking up one of her many throw pillows and hugging it to her chest. "I feel like we should talk."

Carly, sensing an awkward conversation, began hastily re-sorting the clothes in her trunk.

"I know you don't want to have this conversation, but I feel, as your guardian, it's important that we talk about certain... aspects of a relationship," Her aunt continued, clearly also feeling awkward. "Christ, I wasn't cut out for parenting a teenager," her aunt groaned, pushing her face into the pillow.

"Look," Carly said, sitting down beside her aunt, "I'm not stupid. I know what to do and what not to do. And if it makes you feel better, witches have much more foolproof ways of.. staying safe." She grinned sheepishly at her aunt, "don't worry, Alicia's mom is a healer and sent us a ton of pamphlets last year after Alicia dated Diggory for a semester."

"So you're-"

"Okay, without this awkwardness? Yes." Carly grinned at her aunt. "Now, do you know where I put my jean jacket?"

...........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came to pick her up with Fred and George in tow. Fred lept out of the fireplace and tackled her into a hug.

"Carly sue, I've missed you!" he cried, ruffling her hair.

She caught George rolling his eyes out of the corner of her own.

Both of them seemed to have grown another foot over the course of a month. And their shaggy red hair was the longest she'd ever seen it. It really suited them.

"Well, clearly, you've missed her. You've tracked ash all over their floor," Mrs. Weasley laughed, brushing ash off her cloak. "Now, Melanie, I'm so sorry about the ash as always."

"No worries, Molly, tea anyone?" Her aunt asked, ushering them into the kitchen.

As they sat around the lunch table, Mr. Weasley peppered her aunts with questions. While Lucy was a painter and photographer, Melanie was a surgeon, and Mr. Weasley was always fascinated by muggle medicine. Two Christmases ago, Carly had sent him a box of muggle bandaids for Christmas, and he showed up to pick up the children for the summer with them all over his face. She was pretty sure Ron hadn't forgiven her for that.

"so when you say they replace the heart, they take a heart from ANOTHER muggle and put it in?" Mr. Weasley asked, gaping at Melanie. "Yes, it's quite the process," Melanie laughed.

"Now dear, whatever happened to your eye." Mrs. Weasley asked, turning her attention from her husband and frowning at Carly's still swollen eye

"The official story was I was in a fight," Carly laughed.

"I'm sure it's quite the story" Fred winked at her, mouth full of salad.

"Now, George, Carly, you're both done," Mrs. Weasley noted, looking at their empty plates. "Go and fetch Carly's stuff from her room, and we'll be on our way. I dread to know what havoc Ron and ginny have caused."

Getting up from the table George looked at her for directions

"err this way" Carly nodded towards the spiral staircase in the center of their living room that led up to the bedrooms.

"George, make sure you take her trunk. I don't want Carly carrying that down those stairs!" Mr. Weasley called after them.

As they both got up from the table, Carly couldn't help but wish that Fred would offer to go with her instead.

George followed her wordlessly from the kitchen and up the stairs.

"Well, this is my room," Carly said awkwardly, waving her hand at her childhood bedroom.

"Why are there so many windows?" George asked, looking around curiously

"This building used to be a warehouse. They converted it into flats back in the 70's" Carly shrugged, picking up her backpack, art folder, and her owl Gia's cage.

"And did you really get into a fight?" George asked, shooting her an odd look as he picked up her trunk.

"No. What's with all the questions?" Carly asked, immediately regretting her accusatory tone.

"Just making conversation," George muttered, frowning at her, dragging her trunk out of her room,

she jogged after him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it to come off like that."

"Well, it did," he said, not looking back at her as he maneuvered her trunk down the narrow staircase.

Carly frowned at his retreating back. It was going to be an interesting stay this year, she could tell.

"Alright, kids all ready to go?" Mr. Weasley asked, clapping his hands together. "Molly doesn't believe Ron and Ginny can handle being alone for more than an hour."

"I just don't like the idea of Ron having free reign in the icebox," Mrs. Weasley huffed. "Now, you have everything, dear?"

"Yep, all packed," Caly replied, lifting her owl cage in response. "I told Gia to fly to the burrow, so she should be there already."

"Right well, off we go!" Mrs. Weasley said, "Lucy, Melanie, thanks again for Lunch."

"No, thank you for taking this one off our hands" Lucy grinned, ruffling Carly's short back hair. Melanie wrapped her in a quick hug, as Mrs. Weasley brought a small pouch of floo powder out of her pocket and tossed it into the fire.

George dragged her trunk into the fire and left first, giving a quick wave to her aunts in thanks. Carly stepped in after him.


	4. Reparations and Broken Bones

_Summer of 1991_

13 years old was the first time Carly felt subconscious about her body. She had grown up swimming in the pond near the Weasleys house, and the mud fights that occurred were always a favourite amongst the Weasley children. And that's where she was supposed to be right now, elbows deep in muddy water, tossing chunks of bog reed at Fred and Charlie. But instead, she was stood looking in the mirror in the bathroom, examining every dip and curve that seemed to have sprouted in the months since last summer. She was suddenly hyper-aware of the way her hips dipped and then flared out, the small bump in her stomach that stuck out just above her bathing suit bottoms, and the way one breast seemed smaller than the other.

Her best friend, too, had changed. He was suddenly taller than her, shoulders beginning to broaden, and face becoming less boyish. George, too, had shot up in recent months, a few inches taller than Fred (something Fred had complained about for all of June), and with his increased height came to an increased amount of moodiness. He had always joked around with Carly and Fred but had become increasingly withdrawn from Carly, a scowl gracing his face when she would join them at the dinner table. It seemed cruel that getting older came with so many uncertainties, and the shift she saw in her friendship with the twins showed more uncertainty than her 13-year-old brain wanted to comprehend. She was only starting to understand the butterflies that erupted in her stomach when Fred laughed at her joke or put his arm around her shoulders. She also didn't understand the coldness she was beginning to feel from his brother, but she paid George no mind because suddenly her focus was on Fred, it always had been on Fred, but now it felt like a spotlight followed him wherever he went.

And this spotlight was why 13-year-old Carly was suddenly nervous about being in front of him in her bathing suit. What if he hated what he saw? But why would he look? Did she even want him to look at her? Growing up was confusing and demoralizing, at least that she knew for certain. But a sudden knock on the bathroom door snapped her out of her self-pity party.

"Oi, would you hurry up in there!" She heard George's voice call, "I've had to use the toilet for the past 20 minutes."

"Yeah, sorry," Carly said, opening the door and stepping out into the hallway.

"About bloody time," George said, rushing past her and slamming the door behind him.

Boys.

_Summer 1994_

A lot had changed since the summer before the third year. They no longer had bog wars; instead, the Weasley children elected to play quidditch in the clearing on the hill near the burrow. But Carly's refusal to get on a broom meant she was often the designated scorekeeper, which is what she was doing now, watching the Weasley children and Ron's two best friends Harry and Hermione, play a ragtag game of quidditch. They had bent some of the tree branches at either end of the clearing into a makeshift hoop and enchanted two rocks to fly around at low speeds to act as bludgers. With Harry, Charlie, George and Hermione on one side, Ron, Fred, Percy, and Ginny are on the other. Harry, George and Charlie were great, Hermione was abysmal, Fred Ron and Ginny were good, and Percy was terrible, so the teams were decently matched. Fred swooped past her shooting her a wink before he tossed the old worn quaffle in between the tree branches that were tied together in a makeshift goalpost, easily clearing Hermione's attempt to stop him.

Carly clapped and cheered. "Go, Fred!" she yelled.

"Oi, I think the scorekeeper is biased!" Harry yelled, catching the quaffle Ginny had tried to throw to Percy and passing it to George

"Not biased," Carly shouted back, grinning, "just being encouraging is all."

"Suuure," Harry drawled as he zipped past her.

George sped around Fred and whipped the quaffle into the makeshift goal post.

"See where's the energy for George" Harry called out cheekily, dodging one of the enchanted rocks.

"Keep your head in the game, Potter," Carly called back at the younger boy.

Carly really liked Harry and Hermione and was super grateful Ron had such great friends. She knew how difficult it was the youngest brother of such accomplished and well-liked wizards. Ron seemed to have found his place with them. Carly often would get annoyed with the way Fred would tease his younger brother. "Oh, cut him some slack, you two," she would sometimes snap at the twins "he's got enough on his mind.". Ron was a sweetheart (though she knew he would resent being called that). He always put his friends first and was genuinely one of the loyalist people she had ever met. Who else would go through all the stuff he had gone through for Harry?

Hermione was also a gem. The younger girl was wicked smart and was probably the only reason Harry and Ron were still alive. She and Hermione would often chat about the troubles of being an only child, or rather an only daughter.

"My parents keep pestering me about getting 'girlfriends,'" Hermione had confessed the night before, as Ginny, Hermione and Carly sat in the youngest girl's room. "They don't understand why I hang out with two boys all the time."

"I promise it only gets worse as you get older," Carly had informed her. "My aunts constantly pester me about whether or not I'm dating one of the boys. It's really frustrating."

And then there was Harry. Carly related to him the most, a war orphan sent to live with muggles in many ways. Only Carly got off much luckier than Harry did. Living with two lesbians in the middle of London had provided her with a much better childhood than what Harry had faired with his aunt and uncle. But still, the loss of parents at such a young age was a mutual bond, and the two had often talked about how much they wished they could meet their parents, just once.

It was only natural that she had spent so much time with Ron and his friends as they often haunted the burrow during the summers as well. And given that Harry was on the quidditch team with Fred, she was used to seeing his face.

Harry truly was a fantastic flier. She thought as she watched him zip around the field.

"Carly, what's the score" Ginny called out to her from across the clearing.

"25-30, you guys." she called back, "remember first to fifty wins!"

"We will keep that lead," Fred said, swooping down to give her a high five.

"Go get 'em, tiger," Carly laughed, watching him fly off.

Suddenly, that spotlight she had first noticed at 13 was back, and she found her eyes following Fred, scarcely paying attention to what was happening in the game. Which is probably why she missed Ginnys shout for her to look out, as one of the rocks charmed to act as bludgers smacked into her face with a sickening crunch. A sharp pain shot through her head, and Carly fell back, clutching her face, blood gushing from her clearly broken nose.

She heard several gasps, and then the sound of many feet landing on the ground and beginning to run towards her.

Someone helped her up and supported her weight, they were clearly trying to say something, but she couldn't seem the register what exactly they were saying. The voice owner pried her hands away from her face and pressed something cloth to her clearly broken nose. "Here, press this to your nose, and we'll get you to mum."

That voice evidently belonged to George, who had shrugged off his grey flannel for her to use as a makeshift rag.

"Shit Halloway, you would make a terrible beater," Fred laughed, jogging up beside her.

"Not the time for jokes, Fred. Her nose is broken," Ginny snapped.

"Just trying to distract her," Fred sniffed at his sister "come on, Carls, let's go."

Fred and Ginny accompanied her back to the burrow as the other cleaned up the remnants of their makeshift quidditch pitch.

Fred plopped her down at the kitchen table as Ginny ran off to fetch Mrs. Weasley.

"How bad is it?" Carly asked. Her whole face felt like it was pulsing, and her voice sounded like she was wearing a nose plug.

"Terrible," Fred said, his face stony, "you're even uglier than usual."

"Oh, shut it, you," she laughed. "Oh, ow," she gasped as pain shot through her face, "don't make me laugh."

They could hear a commotion upstairs, followed by the sound of footsteps. Mrs. Weasley rushed into the kitchen, followed closely by Ginny.

"How is it that you got hurt and you weren't even playing." the older witch asked, shooting Fred a questioning look.

"Hey, don't look at me. I didn't chuck a rock at her face," Fred retorted. "Anyway, Halloway's just a clutz.

"I'm hardly a clutz if I was sitting down," Carly said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, we will need to set your nose," Mrs. Weasley said gently, turning Carly's face towards her. "Now, this will hurt."

Carly gripped Ginny and Fred's hands as Mrs. Weasley raised her wand and said, "Episky."

At once, her nose cracked back together with a sharp painful click, but almost as soon as the pain was there, it immediately dulled to a low throb.

"There," Mrs. Weasley said, kindly patting her on the cheek, "now It will hurt for a bit, but no permanent damage."

Just then, the rest of the Weasleys (and Harry and Hermione) trooped into the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley rounded in Charlie, her eyes flashing angrily. It had been Charlie who charmed the rocks; he had been told off last summer about it too when one of them had crushed three of George's fingers.

"What is this I hear about enchanted rocks acting as bludgers ?" She snapped at her second-oldest, "have you any idea how dangerous that is?"

"Err...well..." Charlie stammered, shrinking under the wrath of his mother. "I was just thinking-"

"But you weren't thinking!" Mrs. Weasley snapped. Despite Mrs. Weasley standing at a whopping 5'3, her anger bumped her up to at least 6'5. She could get any of her ridiculously tall sons to cower under her.

"Cmon," Ginny said, grabbing Carly's elbow and dragging her away from the kitchen, "this is for Mom and Charlie to sort out."

The younger occupants of the household quietly snuck from the kitchen, with Hermione, Ginny and Carly heading up to the youngest girls' room to get changed out of their sweaty (or in Carly's case bloody) clothes.

Only once she was in the younger girl's room did she remember that she still was still clutching an item of clothing that wasn't hers.

"Oh wait, I still have George's shirt!" She said, looking down at the flannel. "I'll be right back."

She headed back down the stairs to the second floor of the burrow (Ginnys was on the fourth). Fred had told her that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had put the twins in the room closest to theirs to keep an eye on them (not that it managed to stop any of their shenanigans). The two boys had decorated their bedroom door with a variety of stickers and banners; there was also a Gryffindor captain flag she was sure they had nicked from Oliver Wood. 

She knocked gently but was quickly met with a voice within calling out, "We had nothing to do with the flying rock!"

"It's not your mum. It's Carly," she called back "is George in there?"

There was a beat of silence. Then the door swung open with a perplexed looking George behind it. "Do you mean Fred? Cause he's in the shower, I can pass on a message through".

"No, I meant you," Carly said, holding up his shirt. "I forgot to give you this back."

He looked down at it and snorted, "Why don't you keep it? Your nose sort of claimed it."

"Oh," she also looked down at the flannel, somehow just realizing half of it was still caked with her blood. "Sorry, I probably should have washed it first."

She shuffled her feet, feeling stupid. "Well, still, thank you for your help. You were quick on your feet. I really appreciate it."

"Yeah, I'm used to broken noses, quidditch and all" he shrugged, still looking down and avoiding her face. "Well, if that's all." 

He moved to shut the door, but Carly stuck out her hand and caught it before he could do so. 

"Wait," she stated, stopping him in the doorway. "Why do you hate me?"

"W-what?" he replied, clearly confused by her sudden outburst. "I don't hate you."

"Yes, you do." She frowned, letting go of the doorframe and crossing her arms, feeling very uncomfortable. She wasn't the most confrontational person in the world, but something had just snapped in her. She hated how cold he was towards her, and his behaviour this past week had really frustrated her. He had been avoiding her like the plague, often leaving the room when she entered or pretending she wasn't there if he had to stay. She supposed some of it could have been how snippy she had been when they had come to collect her from her aunts, but she had tried to apologize.

"You avoid me. You do everything you can to not speak to me. What did I do? Because we both have the same friend group, and it's awkward as hell carrying on like this, I want us to be friends." Carly continued, feeling emboldened by the way he seemed stunned by her sudden confrontation. 

"We are friends," he continued scratching the back of his neck nervously. Both twins had the habit of doing so, "I just always assumed you didn't want me around."

she frowned, "why wouldn't I want you around?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I guess I just assumed"

"Well, you assumed wrong," she stated, uncrossing her arms but still looking at him pointedly. "I want us to be friends, proper friends, okay? Think we can manage that?"

He grinned, meeting her gaze for the first time all summer, "Yeah, I think we can manage that."

"Good," she grinned back. For the first time since she was 13, he was smiling in her direction.


	5. Phobias and Butterflies

When Carly was 7 years old, her aunt Lucy took her on what they called "friendship dates." Lucy and Melanie hadn't finalized their relationship yet. The last step was for Lucy to win over the small, dark-headed girl that would look at her suspiciously from behind her girlfriend's legs.

This friendship date was to the Shoreditch tattoo studio of one of Lucy's art school friends. A place that most people wouldn't bring a child to, but Lucy Watanabe was not most people, and Carly Halloway was not most children. Lucy had noticed how the young girl was constantly drawing on herself. Butterflies and frogs often littered the arms and legs of her girlfriend's niece. This is why the seven-year-old watched in amazement as a tattoo artist finished etching the flower on Lucy's right calf.

"Can I have one, Lucy?" Carly asked, green eyes wide

"Of course you can, kiddo," The older woman said as the tattoo artist wiped down the finished tattoo on her leg. "Hop up here."

Carly scrambled on to the tattoo bed, and the tattoo artist, a large bearded man, named Stefan, pulled out a sharpie and went to work, drawing the same flower he had just inked into Lucys skin onto Carlys.

Carly spent the rest of the day telling strangers on the street that "My aunt Lucy and I have the same tattoo. Look!"

That day not only solidified her approval of Lucy, but it also solidified a passion for Carly. Her sketchbook was full of tattoo designs, ones that she was itching to try out, on herself, on others, she didn't care. All she knew was that she wanted to be a tattoo artist when she was out of school. She could sketch for hours if she were left alone to it, which is what she was doing now in the Weasleys tent. They had left at the crack of dawn that morning to get to the quidditch cup, and perhaps it was her anxiety over the inevitability of having to sit in the towering quidditch stands, but she hadn't felt like roaming the crowds with the rest of the kids.

They had taken portkey with the Diggory's. As tall and handsome as ever, Cedric had made Hermione blush deeply (and Ron scowl deeply) when he asked her if she needed help carrying her bag. Carly had always liked Cedric despite Fred and George's deep dislike of him. She knew Hufflepuffs win against Gryffindor last year was still very fresh in their minds, and it definitely hadn't helped that Mr. Diggory had carried on and on about Cedrics win. But Cedric had always been exceptionally kind to her, and she held no qualms with him (his jawline certainly made it hard to dislike him). His break up with Alicia, too, had been exceptionally amicable, and the two remained good friends.

She was distracted from the mushrooms she was sketching as Percy, Bill, and Charlie finally arrived from the burrow.

"Hey Carls, where is everyone else?" Bill asked, patting the top of her head in a brotherly manner

"Off ogling the crowd, of course," she smiled, closing her sketchbook. "I suspect Fred and George are off trying to pawn their wares."

"Yeah, mum told us about them trying to smuggle out those candies," Percy sniffed disapprovingly. "I still can't believe they tried to poison that muggle boy."

"They didn't poison him!" Carly snapped, "and anyway, he's a horrid boy, you should hear how he bullies Harry."

"Still, a complete break of protocol," Percy retorted. "I couldn't imagine what Mr.Crouch would think."

"Yes, do tell us what Mr. Crouch would think," Charlie said, shooting Carly a wink.

Percy was enamoured with his boss. So much so that Charlie had taken to asking him about when Percy would finally snog the famous Mr. Crouch. "Tell us what your boss says. You're meeting him later today, right? Let me know if you finally do end up kissing him"

"For the last time, Charlie, I don't want to snog my boss," Percy snapped at his brother.

Charlie pulled a pensive face, "hmmm, sort of seems like you do."

As the two began arguing, Bill snorted and nudged her "let's leave the two to argue. I want to buy a jersey."

Carly shoved her sketchbook into her backpack and followed Bill out of the tent. Bill had always been the most brotherly to her. While she saw Charlie and Ron as brothers, she had never really felt brotherly love towards Percy, and her feelings for Fred weren't exactly familial. As for George, well, George was a friend.

Bill dragged her out of the tent and towards the vibrant stalls and vendors that littered the campground, slinging an arm around her.

"You know, Carly, I'm surprised you wanted to come." Bill said, "I would have thought the stands would have frightened you off. They're a lot higher than the ones at Hogwarts."

"Yeah," Carly shrugged, "trust me, I'm anxious as all hell, but this is once in a lifetime, you know?"

"Yeah, for sure," Bill said. "I'm glad you're here, always a calming voice for Fred."

Carly snorted. "I'm hardly a calming voice."

"Well, you're better than nothing," he grinned, ruffling her hair "hey, look! Jerseys!"

An hour later, they (or rather Bill) were laden down with Ireland memorabilia. They had found a spot near the many food vendors and were lounging under the shade of a large oak tree. Carly had bought herself some popcorn (and convinced Bill to buy her a Guinness). As Bill rambled on about the different players and who he thought would win, Carly was people watching. She loved watching witches and wizards interact. There was nothing more fascinating. Carly was staring at a witch who had dyed herself green and whose hat was made entirely of shamrocks when she caught sight of a familiar flash of red.

Fred and George had managed to track down Lee and Angelina, and the four were oggling a stack of dragon kebabs the size of sledgehammers. Something she and Bill had been quick to turn their noses up at.

She was just about to call out for them when she watched Fred slide his hand across Angie's waist, settling on her hip.

She felt her blood run cold.

Fred didn't touch her like that.

No. No! She wouldn't read into this. They were friends, on the same quidditch team. Suppose Fred had feelings for Angie, then surely he would have told her. They were just friends.

But still, her breath felt stuck in her throat, and she suddenly felt the urge to spit out the popcorn she had over chewed.

"Hey! Earth to Carly," Bill said, waving a hand in front of her face, "you alright."

"Yeah, just... just nervous about the stands is all," she replied quickly, looking away from where her friends were

"You know, I do have some calming draught in my bag. I usually use it to sleep, but I can go without it for one night," he suggested,

That was something she loved about Bill. Genuinely one of the most selfless people she had ever met.

"Are you sure?" She asked,

"Yeah, of course!" He said, waving her off, "now let's go get you a Jersey. My treat".

An hour later, they trudged back to the tent, Carly wearing her massively oversized Ireland jersey, and Bill wearing a wreath of shamrocks some lady had given him "because he looks like a proud Irishman."

"Oi! There you two are!" Ron called out. Ron and his friends were equally as decked out in merchandise as Carly and Bill were. Fred and George, however, were not.

"You guys didn't buy anything?" She asked, taking a seat across from George

"Nah," Fred said, plonking down next to her. "We spent our hard-earned gold on much more important things."

"Important how?" She questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.

"In time, dear Carly, I'm time," he said, patting her hand in a patronizing way.

"Now, kids!" Mr. Weasley said, waving them towards the door, "we should get going, long trek to the pitch."

As everyone else filed out of the tent, Bill slipped a small bottle of calming draught into Carly's palm.  
"Here, drink up," he said

Trooping after the rest of them, Carly downed the draught in one gulp. Calming elixirs always tasted like butter, a sort of sweet delicious butter that settled into your nerves and melted away anxiety.

"The stands, right?" A voice suddenly asked

She turned and found that George had fallen back beside her.

"The stands, you hate heights."

"Yeah, I do," she grimaced, looking up at the imposing quidditch pitch, "but it should be okay."

"Yeah, don't worry, Fred and I won't let you fall," he grinned at her.

"Why do I get the feeling that means you'll be trying to push me off?" She asked

He clutched his heart in mock shock. "Halloway, I thought you knew us better than that! We would never"

"I know you too well. That's how I know you would," she laughed.

She was so glad things were normal again between her and George. They could talk, laugh, and share a conversation now, and she was beyond relieved he didn't hate her.

And while the calming draught helped somewhat, the climb up to their seats made her want to hurl. By the time they were in their seats, she was shaking, insisting everyone else take the front row.

"Carly, are you sure you're fine," George asked, turning around in his seat.

"Yeah, I'm fine!" She insisted, though her knuckles were white from clenching the armrests.

Mr. Weasley had managed somehow to get them into the minister's box. A feat not lost on her as she gazed around at the ministry dignitaries and important quidditch officials.

She was still feeling relatively anxious until the team mascots came on for their performance. They were truly a sight, the leprechauns whooping and cheering through the air, spreading leprechaun gold to people in the stands. But when the Veelas came out, Carly couldn't help but feel annoyed. The boys basically lept out of the seats for them. Fred looked ready to climb over the banister before Ginny and Hermione pulled him starkly back in his seat. George blinked down at the field, clearly mesmerized but seemingly less affected by the veela's magic as he stayed rooted in his seat.

Thankfully, the game was quick. The Irish chasers were spectacular! You didn't need to know anything about quidditch to see that. But the Bulgarian seeker, Victor Krum, was something else. He flew like he and his broom were one, so fast and so mesmerizing that Carly forgot how high up she was when she watched him fly. She only wished she could do so. Hearing Fred ramble on about what it felt like to fly made her heart soar.

But Carly's fear of heights started at a young age. When she was seven years old her grandparents had died in a plane crash. She had been kept awake for weeks by nightmares of falling through the air, surrounded by wreckage and burning bodies. Ever since then, she couldn't stomach heights. It didn't matter that there were no aeroplanes involved. She still couldn't stomach being up high.

But the game was over, and the teams trooped into the boxes, Ireland eager to claim their prize.

The boy's eyes were wide with admiration. Ron looked ready to squeal like a little girl when Victor Krum entered the booth.

Ginny leaned over and nudged her. "Hey, Aiden Lynch is staring at you."

"Who?" Carly whispered back

"The seeker, the dazed-looking one."

Carly snorted. "His teammates are holding him up. I don't think he's looking at me."

Ginny just nudged her again, "no, he's for sure looking at you."

Carly shrugged off the younger girl's observations until they were leaving the stadium, and the press agent of Irelands national team caught up with her.

"Excuse me, Miss," the young lad said, running up beside her and the Weasleys. "Mr. Lynch requested I give you this. It's his writing information."

"Oh... thank you," Carly said, somewhat taken aback.

Ginny nudged her, a shit-eating grin taking up her face "see, I TOLD you he was looking at you."

"Well, he has a concussion, probably wasn't thinking straight," Fred laughed, ruffling Carly's hair.  
"c'mon, let's get back to the tent. It's freezing out here."

Fred ran to catch up with George, tackling him and whispering excitedly about their earnings from the match.

Carly felt that same ball of iron from before drop into her stomach.

"I'm sure he's just teasing," Hermione said gently, noticing the look on Carly's face.

"Yeah, unfortunately, Fred doesn't always think before he talks," Ginny agreed, eyes shooting daggers at her brother's back.

"I'm sure," Carly said dryly "you know, I thought something would have happened by now. I feel like I'm starting to lose my mind with him"

"We all are," Ginny agreed. "Mum and I have been saying for years he needs to make a move."

"And what does he say about that" Carly inquired, hope rising in her chest

"Well, we only say it to each other," Ginny admitted sheepishly "me and mum gossip quite a bit about the boys, but they never take it too well when we try to pry into their love life. I learned that the hard way with Bill and Charlie."

Hermione looped her arm through the older girls. "Well, let's not dwell on this then. I think we can all agree boys are dumb, and it's freezing out. Let's get back to the tent."

As they all trudged back to the tent, Carly couldn't seem to shake that heavy feeling in her stomach. She felt weighed down and exhausted. She was so sure that SOMETHING would happen this summer, though she wasn't sure what exactly. As the girls readied for bed in their room of the tent, Carly couldn't help but stare into the mirror on the dresser, feeling thirteen all over again. Her tits were tiny, her ass was flat, and she had a pimple on her chin. No wonder she wasn't getting anywhere. Maybe he preferred girls with longer hair, she wondered, reaching up to pull on one of her chin-length strands of hair, but she had always kept it short. She wasn't sure if she wanted to try and grow it out.

Climbing into bed beside Ginny (Hermione had a cot on the floor), she tried her best to fall asleep, to let the sounds of distant celebrations lull her to sleep. But it was the ball of Iron that kept her awake. Despite the remnants of the numbing draft trying to lull her to sleep, she just couldn't seem to close her eyes.

As she lay there, replaying Fred and Angelina in her mind over and over again, she suddenly noticed the sounds of the crowd were getting closer, louder, and distinctly less cheerfully. Rather more terrified.

Just as she was about to get out of bed and alert Mr. Weasley, Charlie burst into their room.

"Girls, get up quick!" He urged, pulling Ginny and her out of bed and kicking Hermione's cot with his boot. "Now!" He cried more pressingly

Throwing on jumpers and trainers as quickly as they could, they rushed after Charlie. The rest of the Weasleys and Harry were gathered in the living room, looking frantic.

"There's trouble down the campsite. You lot need to get out of here NOW," Mr. Weasley ordered. "Head back to the site where we portkeyed, and stay PUT until Bill, Percy, Charlie, or I come to find. Is that understood?"

There was a hurried round of yes's, and they hurried out of the tent.

She stopped, unable to move with the shock of what she was seeing. It was pure chaos, people running and screaming in every direction. The glow of tents on fire lit up the skyline in an orange blaze. The heat of it could be felt from where they were.

"Carly, come on!" Fred cried, taking her hand and pulling her with him through the crowds. George had a hold of Ginny, but they had lost Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Carly panicked as she looked around for them, pulling against Fred to try and get him to stop. "Wait, where are-"

"Those three can handle themselves. Just come on," Fred urged, gripping her hand tighter and pulling her along.

He held her hand the whole night, all the way to the portkey site, and all the way until sunset. The ball of iron was gone, and where it had been, there were butterflies.


	6. Troubles and Tournaments

The drive to the train station was a quiet one. Though things, in general, had been uncommonly quiet since the quidditch world cup.

Lee had cancelled his visit; his parents wanted him to stay at home with them. They were rather shaken up about the ordeal at the cup.

Her aunts, too, had tried to convince her to come home for a bit, but Carly wasn't having it. She wanted to stay close to Fred, though that seemed to be difficult as she hadn't had a chance to get him alone since the cup.

Even now, they were piled into the back of the ministry cars, and while they were spacious, things still felt cramped. Ginny's elbow had been digging into her thigh for the past ten minutes, and she was pressed into George's side. Mrs.Weasley had forced them out the door in a flurry of disgruntled owls and levitating trunks, so none of them really had time to get properly ready, Georges's hair was still wet from his rushed morning shower, and she could smell his shampoo lingering on his hair.

He had been especially quiet since the incident at the cup, well, as quiet as George Weasley could possibly be. Even now, as Ginny and Ron laughed roguishly beside them, he stared out the window at the passing streets of muggle London, head lost in thought.

"Have you ever been to muggle London?" she asked, trying to draw him out of his stopper.

"What" he started, having been too distracted by his own thoughts.

"I asked if you have ever been to muggle London," Carly asked again, shifting so she could look at him properly. "There's a lot of places that might interest you and Fred."

"Yeah, I'm sure Fred would get a kick out of them," he grumbled.

Carly frowned, "what's got your wand in a knot?"

George sighed, peering down at her. There were dark bags under his eyes from lack of sleep. "sorry, didn't mean to be rude. I'm just tired."

"I can tell," she said, nudging him gently, "If you're shaken up about what happened at the cup, you should know we all are. The mark of you-know-who floating over the crowds isn't exactly a calming vacation experience."

"Are you sure? I hear they offer the full you know who crowd terror experience in Ibiza, very trendy with the French" He grinned, nudging her back, his regular demeanour coming back to him.

"Well, that does sound relaxing. Reckon we should go?" she laughed.

"To Ibiza? I'm sure old Minnie would gladly let two of her favourite students go on a field trip." he said, "and anyway, I've always wanted to go to Spain. This could be our chance."

Carly grinned, glad he appeared to be coming out of his sullen morning mood. "Do you want to travel, you know, once we've left school?"

He thought for a moment, brow creased in thought, "you know, I've never really thought about seeing the world. I suppose our family has only ever travelled abroad once, to Eygpt to visit Bill."

"Well, I've always wanted to go to Vancouver, to see the mountains," Carly said. "My aunt Lucy has a brother that lives there, and he's always sending us postcards of these beautiful valleys and lakes."

George grinned, leaning back against the leather seat of the ministry car. "How about this. When I'm old and rich, I'll take you to Vancouver if you promise to show me around muggle London."

Carly leaned back against the seat as well, peering up at him. "I think that's an agreement I can make."

"Shake on it?" he asked, extending a hand to her

she took his hand. "Shake on it."

............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

The trouble with such a large group moving through King's cross is it's guaranteed to attract attention, especially when you are trying NOT to attract attention.

The stone-faced Aurors were clearly exasperated by the time they had managed to usher the large group onto platform 9 and 3/4. The large group of redheads alone had attracted stares from passers-by, let alone the large leather trunks and disgruntled owls rustling in their cages.

The two Aurors on either side of her and Ginny had all but shoved them through the barrier. A few moments later, George and Ron stumbled in after them. The latter of the two looking extremely disgruntled.

"He shoved me through he did," Ron griped, looking back at the barrier sourly. "I don't understand why we need such an escort anyway. We're fine by ourselves every other year."

"Well, considering one year you two flew a car to school id say mum was very grateful for some extra hands getting you and Harry onto the platform," Ginny quipped, unloading her trunk from the trolly where it was stacked.

"Still, it's pointless. There's no reason for it," Ron continued, clearly miffed about how the Aurors had handled him.

"It's cause the ministry is worried about what happened at the cup," George said, cuffing his little brother across the top of his head, "and it's solely because we have Harry with us. I assure you, if we didn't have Mr. Wonderboy, we wouldn't be getting such special treatment."

"Whose Mr. Wonderboy?" A voice asked from behind them.

Harry and Hermione had just come through the barrier, pushing their trolley in front of them.

"Oh, no one special," George said quickly. "A real tosser, I promise. Hey Carly, I see Lee and Alicia, shall we?"

Before Carly could protest, George dragged her off towards where their friends were standing on the platform.

"Shouldn't we wait for Fred?" Carly asked, looking back over her shoulder for him.

"He's a big boy. He'll find us," George replied, not bothering to look back, slow down, or let go of her wrist.

Carly was about to protest, but Alicia and Lee had spotted them and were waving them over to their spot on the platform.

"Carly!" Alicia cried, running up and wrapping her in a tight hug. "I heard about what happened at the cup. Are you alright?"

Carly hugged her friend back tightly, glad to finally have a girl her own age back. "All in one piece, thankfully."

Lee clapped her on the shoulder "you know we missed you at the cup. Found the twins and Angie but not you. Where did you get off to?"

Carly felt that ball of iron sink back into her stomach, suddenly reminded of the way Fred and Angelina had been together at the cup. She was going to have to see her, and it was going to be sooner rather than later.

"Oi! Earth to Carly," Lee said, waving a hand in front of her face "where' you go?"

"Sorry Lee," Carly said, shaking her thoughts out of her head, "Mrs. Weasley had us up at the crack of dawn. I'm knackered. What did you ask again?"

"I asked where you were at the cup. I found the others, but you were off," He repeated, beginning to help Alicia load her trunk onto the train.

"Oh, I was with Bill! He was showing me around," Carly explained, pushing a lock of dark hair out of her face, "He wanted to buy an Ireland Jersey."

Lee wiggled his eyebrows at her, suggestively, "oh, with the older brother?"

Carly rolled her eyes at him. "Nothing like that, Bills like a brother to me," she said, also beginning to load her trunk onto the train. "Anyways, I just wanted to make sure I was avoiding you."

Lee stuck his tongue out at her.

"Very mature, Jordan, sticking your tongue out at pretty girls," A voice from behind Carly called.

Fred and Angelina had found the group, and that dreaded ball of iron was back.

"Hi Carls," Angie said, coming up to give her a hug, which Carly dodged by suddenly picking up Gia's cage.

"Angelina," Carly responded curtly.

Angie gave her a hurt look, and Alicia shot her a confused one. But Carly busied herself with Gia's cage, not wanting to look at Angelina or Fred all of a sudden. She hated being this way, suddenly becoming a jealous child over what seemed to just be a playground crush. Since the first year, Angelina had been her friend and never given her any reason to think she was interested in Fred. And even if she did, what reason did Carly have to dislike Angie? She was kind, smart, and an incredible girl. But the jealousy that gnawed at the pit of her stomach was turning molten, and Carly could feel it swirling with the guilt she felt over treating Angie that way.

Fred nudged her with his elbow "why didn't you guys wait for me! We got stuck on the other side of the platform cause this group of tourists just wouldn't leave"

"Ask George," Carly grinned, nodding towards the other twin who was showing Alicia a Quidditch weekly magazine. "He dragged me over, but I swear I said we should wait."

Fred pulled her into a hug. "I can always count on you, Carls."

"Course you can," she murmured into his chest.

Through the crook of his shoulder, she met Alicia's gaze and shot her a wink.

The train whistle cut through the air, warning the students of the ten-minute departure mark and breaking Fred and Carly apart.

"Come on, let's go get a compartment," Alicia said, pulling Carly onto the train and away from their friends. "We'll meet the rest of you on the train," she called back to their group.

"Don't you want to say goodbye to your parents," Carly asked, following the shorter girl through the train to an empty compartment.

"They already left," Alicia shrugged, tugging the door to the compartment closed behind Carly. "Dad's got an early meeting in Norwood."

Carly flopped down in the seat opposite Alicia, first looking out the window at the crowds of students saying goodbye to their families, and then back at her friend who had fixed her with a pointed look and crossed arms.

"What?" Carly asked. She hated being on the end of one of Alicia's glares.

"Why did you snap at Angie," the other girl asked, her brown eyes searching Carly's green ones.

Carly shrugged, feeling defensive all of a sudden "I didn't snap at her," she defended

Alicia sat down opposite her, arms still crossed, and eyes still narrowed. "Well, you weren't exactly the welcoming committee. You basically shoved her off when she tried to say hello."

She busied herself with her rucksack, suddenly fascinated with the fading charcoal sketch of a toadstool she had done on the canvas back in the third year. "Just tired, that's all."

"No, I know you better than that," Alicia stated, "Something happened. And I doubt Angie knows what."

Carly sighed, tipping her head back against the train seat. Alicia was the type of person not to let things like this go, and she had been a bit of a bitch.

"When we were at the cup," she started.

"there it is," Alicia said triumphantly, sitting back against the bench "go on."

The events of the summer seemed to pour out of Carly what she had seen at the cup, how Fred had touched Angie and how flirty he had been with her. More than he had ever been with her, and how, during the chaos, he had held her hand. So surely it was a one-off thing with Angie? But then they appeared together on the platform! And was she overthinking things? And how George didn't actually hate her. He had actually been quite fun this summer and helped her with her broken nose. So surely that was a good sign because if someone as important as George was to Fred didn't hate her, then surely that meant good things for her and Fred, right? And also, Aiden Lynch, the Irish seeker, had asked her to write to him, but then Fred made fun of her for that! Was he jealous, or did he mean it?

"Woah, Woah, Woah," Alicia said, holding up her hands, "let's slow down a minute. You said you saw Fred getting handsy with Angie at the cup? And the Irish National seeker wants you to write to him?"

"Well, not exactly handsy." Carly sighed, tugging on a strand of hair. "He slid his hand across her waist, and they seemed flirty. I don't know, maybe I'm reading too much into this"

"I'd say you are," Alicia agreed. "Fred and Angie have been friends since the first year and teammates since the second. I've never seen them get flirty, and I've never heard Ang mention being interested in him."

Carly hmmed, pulling the strand of hair she had been tugging into her mouth and sucking on the ends. A pensive habit she'd had since she was a child.

"And you and George are chummy now, right?" Alicia continued, leaning forward onto her knees, "That's got to count for something! Keep being friendly, and you can ask him if Fred has ever mentioned you?"

Carly nodded absentmindedly, the guilt of being so nasty to Angie settling in her gut.

Alicia reached across and patted her friend on the knee. "Don't stress too much. Love makes us do funny things, and sometimes it makes us be bitchy to friends. Just apologize to Ang when she comes in."

As if on queue, Angie and Lee slid open the door to the compartment

"Fred and George are talking to their family, but they will be on in a second," Lee said, putting his rucksack onto the luggage rack.

Angie stood nervously in the door as if waiting to be told to leave, eyes avoiding Carly.

"Angie!" Carly said cheerfully, standing up and wrapping the other girl in a hug "sorry, I was so stiff on the platform. I'm dead tired and was miffed about something that happened earlier. I didn't mean to take it out on you."

"Oh, that's alright," she said, a smile breaking across her pretty face. "I'm tired too. Mum always makes me get up way too early for this"

Feeling decidedly better, Carly settled back into her seat, chatting happily with Lee and the girls. As the train started to depart, Fred and George found them, taking the compartment's remaining seats.

"Do you know why Charlie would come and visit Hogwarts this year?" Fred asked them, "He was hinting that something big was happening, and because of it, he might come and visit?"

"Do you think it has something to do with why they haven't chosen a quidditch captain?" Angelina asked, looking at her teammates and friends. "Because Fred, you said neither you, George or Harry got it, and Alicia, you said you didn't either."

"Well, what about Katie?" Alicia suggested, her brow furrowed. "Why would there be no quidditch captain? Maybe McGonagall forgot to send out the badge?"

"Katie hasn't got it either," George piped up, "she wrote to us about this joke shop she visited in America, and she definitely would have mentioned if she got captain."

Fred nodded, "she's also too young. There are three older teammates who have been on the team for longer. Katie joined the same year as Harry. It wouldn't make sense for her to get it."

Carly frowned. Percy had been hinting at something happening all summer but given that it was Percy, she hadn't paid much mind to it, probably something to do with thin bottomed cauldrons. However, the lack of quidditch captain was suspicious, and if Charlie had mentioned that they might be getting a visit from him than surely meant something more exciting than thin bottomed cauldrons.

The thought of something exciting happening this year entertained the group for the long journey to Hogwarts. They had thrown around ideas of dragon taming, or perhaps they would be trying a new variation of quidditch? Lee had told them very excitedly about a version of quidditch where you rode on uprooted trees.

"They play it in Russia, I swear!"

But as the sky began to darken, and the hills rolled ever higher, their journey to the castle was coming to a close.

"Oi, you lot get out!" Alicia said, shoving the boys out of the compartment, "we need to change, and ladies change here. You lot can head to the toilets to change."

"If there were any ladies present, I assure you I would insist they take the compartment," Fred quipped, shooting Carly a wink.

Alicia just slammed the door in his face, drawing the curtains to the compartment as well.

As Carly buttoned her school shirt, she couldn't help comparing herself to Alicia and Angelina. They were curvy with flat toned stomachs. Quidditch muscles did a lot for the physique, apparently.

"Carly, what's that on your leg?" Alicia asked as Carly hiked her skirt over her thighs

Cary rolled up her school skirt, exposing the dagger tattooed on her inner thigh. "A tattoo! It was a 16th birthday present from my Aunt. We were in Spain for an art show at the beginning of July, so my Aunts friend did it!"

"No way!" Alicia gasped, yanking her friend's leg to get a better look at the tattoo, "You never mentioned it!"

Carly shrugged. "Hogwarts dress code says no tattoos, so I felt if no one knew about it, there wouldn't be a problem."

"We won't say anything, swear," Angelina said, holding up her hand in promise, "does anyone else know?"

"Just you guys, my aunts, and Ginny!" She grinned, rolling her skirt back down. "I wore trousers the whole summer so no one would see. I knew Mrs. Weasley would have a cow, and Fred can't keep his mouth shut, so I didn't mention it to him. I share a room with Ginny in the summer. I knew she would see it, so I told her. But she's the only Weasley that can keep a secret, so I don't mind her knowing." 

"How are you going to hide it with your skirt?" Alicia asked, rolling her socks over her knees. "It's going to be odd if you suddenly start wearing tights the whole year."

"Already thought of that," Carly said, pulling out a pair of spandex dance shorts from her rucksack and pulling them on under her skirt. "These should do the trick."

"Yeah, you can't see anything," Alicia agreed, lifting up Carly's skirt, inspecting the shorts.

"Licia, why do you have your hand up Carly's skirt?"

Angie had opened the door for the boys, who were staring at the two other girls with confused expressions.

"cause I can" Alicia shrugged. 

George shot Carly a funny look, but she just shrugged at him. 

As the train pulled into the station, Carly's stomach began to grumble. She did love the welcome back feast. Stuffing yourself with roast and potatoes was truly the only way to come back to school. She could still remember her first welcome feast. The awe of the castle, the excitement knowing she was in the same house as the Weasleys. If it hadn't been for the sheer amount of food she had eaten that evening, she wouldn't have been able to fall asleep from all the excitement.

But of course, the more sorting you watch, the more they tend to blend together. Thankfully the sorting this year was quick, and the hats song gave no hint about anything strange happening at Hogwarts. 

"Maybe we'll have to wait until Dumbledoors speech," Fred wondered, leaning over to talk to Carly. "I'm sure he'll give some hints."

"Have you heard anything from any of the other teams?" Carly asked him 

"Nope," Fred shrugged, "might corner Davies after, see if he's heard anything."

"You should ask Cedric," Carly said, nodding towards Alicia. "He would probably know too."

"Git." Fred and George said at the same time, shooting the Hufflepuff captain matching glares 

"Didn't you hear how he was carrying on about Hufflepuffs win? Like they would have won if dementors hadn't attacked Harry," Fred huffed, still glaring at the Hufflepuff table.

"Play nice boys," Alicia cautioned, shooting the twins a look. "You know he wanted a re-match, and boasting about a win doesn't sound like something Cedric would do."

"He wasn't boasting," Carly added, sending the boys a similar look to the one Alicia had fixed them with. "His father was, Cedric was trying to explain what actually happened."

Fred just stabbed a carrot aggressively, but George frowned at her. "You're on a first-name basis with Diggory now?"

Carly rolled her eyes at him. "I've been on a first-name basis with him since he snogged Alicia in a broom cupboard in fourth year. And he's not a bad bloke. You just hate him cause you lost to his team."

"You just don't see it how we do," George countered, folding his arms.

"And how do you see it," Carly asked, feeling annoyed. "Because I see jealousy and misplaced blame."

"Jealousy and misplaced blame," George laughed. "Hardly. You just don't understand quidditch." 

"I understand quidditch just fine. I don't understand hating someone because they beat you in a game over a technicality." Carly snapped

"You don't play quidditch. You've never even been on a broom. So how would you know" George snapped back, brown eyes flashing angrily.

"I don't need to know how to ride a broom to know what someone is being a git. And you, George, are being a git," Carly hissed, slamming her fork down on the table.

"Okay, okay, let's all settle down," Lee said, trying to soothe the argument between his two friends. "Let's just wait for Dumbledore's speech. I'm sure something will come up."

Feeling thoroughly annoyed, Carly carefully avoided the gaze of either twin. Instead, starring moodily down at her plate and mashing her peas and potatoes together.

Even during the pudding, she refused to look at either Fred or George. With Fred, it felt like residual anger over what happened at the cup. With George, she was just annoyed. He had to start being a git just as they started to truly get along and become friends.

It was only when Dumbledore stood up for his speech did she look up from the table.

"Now that we are fed and watered, I must ask once more for your attention while I bore you with this year's happenings. Mr. Filch has asked me to tell you that a few items have extended the list of objects forbidden inside the castle this year. The full list has some four hundred items and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office if anybody would like to check it,"

he seemed to look directly at the Weasley twins as he said this.

"It is also my painful duty to inform you that the inter-house Quidditch Cup will not take place this year," Dumbledore continued.

Carly looked at Alicia and Angelina, whose moths had promptly fallen open at this announcement.

"No, quidditch?" She heard Fred gasp

"This is due to an event that will be starting in October, but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely, perhaps more than quidditch."

"Surely, not more than quidditch," Alicia whispered. The hall was deadly silent, and her whisper seemed to echo through the hall, causing some heads to turn towards them.

Dumbledores eyes seemed to find their little group as he announced, "I have great pleasure in letting you all know that this year at Hogwarts will be the host of the Tri-wizard tournament."

And once again, the hall was silent before it erupted in noise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hate how Angelina Johnson is villainized in some fics, but at the same time, I want to explore how complicated feelings can be, especially when it involved multiple friends. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Leave a comment if you feel like it, it would mean the world to me <3


	7. Love Letters and Family Secrets

"I must ask for your silence," Dumbledore said calmly, raising his hands to silence the excited students. "We will be competing against two of our sister schools, Durmstrang and Beauxbaton, who will be arriving on the first of October."

"Oi, the french school!" Lee grinned, nudging the boys. "I've heard they have a fountain there that makes the students extra beautiful."

"Quelle charge d'absurdités," Carly muttered, rolling her eyes at the boys.

Hermione, who was sitting kitty-corner to her, snorted.

"I didn't know you spoke French, Carly?" Hermione said, leaning over the table looking impressed

"Well, it's not great French," Carly shrugged. "My Aunt Melanie's side of the family is French. My grandparents left France before the Nazis took hold of Paris. My grandfather was Jewish."

"Do you speak it at home with your aunts?" The younger girl asked, "My parents always tried to get me to learn, but I only really ever learned to read in French."

"Oi! Shush it, you two," Alicia said, "he's talking more about the tournament."

Abandoning their conversation, Hermione and Carly turned back to Dumbledore.

"And while this tournament is destined to bring eternal glory to the winner and their school, it is also exceptionally dangerous," the headmaster warned. "And because of this, the schools and our respective ministries have decided that only those who are of age by October 31st shall be allowed to enter and participate."

Dumbledore might as well have announced that Quidditch was permanently banned in England because the shouts of anger and disbelief that filled the great hall were deafening.

The twins themselves standing up in their seats and shouting "Rubbish! Rubbish!" loudly into the fray

"I will ask once more for silence," Dumbledore asked, again raising his hands to signal the need for quiet. "It is for your protection that this has been done. For any more enquiries about the tournament, I will direct your questions to your heads of house."

"Fancy asking Mcgonogall how to get around the age restrictions?" she heard Fred mutter to George. 

Carly suppressed the urge to say something. As of the last ten minutes, she decidedly wasn't speaking to the twins.

"Now, before you all head off to bed, I would like to introduce our newest member of staff" he swept his hand towards the end of the teacher's table, where a man who seemed to be more spare parts than flesh was sat. "This if Professor Moody, our newest defence against the dark arts teacher."

Murmurs echoed through the hall.

"Did I hear that, right?"

"Moody, as in Mad-eye-moody?"

"Gosh, I hear he's a real nutter."

Carly turned to Lee, confused by the way other students had reacted. "Why does everyone seem to know who he is?"

"He's an Auror," Lee said solemnly. "Half the cells in Azkaban are full cause of him. Made himself a lot of enemies, and that's made him a bit paranoid in recent years."

"Oh," Carly found herself saying, unsure of what to think.

Her aunts and Mrs. Weasley all refused to talk about what happened to her family during the war with you-know-who. Her father had been murdered by death eaters, and her mother had died in childbirth a week later, so she had lived with her Aunt Melanie since she was a newborn. As for her mother's side of the family, she had simply been told they were a magical family but had died in the war as well. In terms of who they had been, all she knew is her mother's maiden name was Foucault, though she hadn't met any other Faucaults at Hogwarts or anywhere else in the wizarding world and had never seen pictures of her maternal grandparents. She had pictures of her parents. Of course, there were photos of them everywhere in her Aunts flat. She was a carbon copy of her mother, with pin-straight dark hair and green eyes. She even had the same birthmark on the corner of her mouth that her mother had. But her aunt constantly talked about how much she was like her father. 

"Andrew was so artistic, full of nerve. He shocked the hair off of our mother one year when he drew a nude playboy for our great uncle," her aunt had laughed one night this past summer, looking at the sketch of a naked woman Carly had done in art class. 

The thought that their new defence teacher might have put away the death eaters that killed her father, that killed her mother's family, seemed to unnerve Carly.

"Now, on that cheerful note, I will send you off to bed!" Dumbledore declared, "Off you trot!"

The scrape of benches shook Carly out of her thoughts, standing up. She linked her arms with Alicia and dragged her out of the hall, making a point not to look back at the boys.

"Are we not speaking to the twins?" Alicia asked her friend, looking back over her shoulder to see if she could spot the tall redheads in the throng of students 

"I'm not speaking to them." Carly shrugged, "you, however, are perfectly allowed to speak to whomever you please."

"Good because they are the only reason I pass potions," Alica sighed. "Don't know how they are so good at it. But how about that tournament, reckon you would enter if you were able to?"

Carly shrugged. "I suppose if I were of age, I would, just for kicks, doubt I would be chosen, but it would be cool to be able to enter."

"yeah, I don't know if I would put my name in," Alicia pondered "eternal glory sounds great, but the risk of permanent injury stopping me from playing quidditch. Not too much of a fan of that."

Carly was so focused on getting back to the common room she dragged Alicia ahead of the other students, and they were the first back to the portrait hole. 

"Mugwump," she told the fat lady, who swung open and waved them through with a merry 'welcome back.'

As the girls trudged up the familiar flight of stairs to their dormitory, they passed a quidditch poster that had been plastered to the outside of the second year girls dorm room. It was the Ireland quidditch team, and in the back, Aiden Lynch waved happily at her.

"You know, I think I might write to Aiden Lynch," She told Alicia as they entered their dorm.

"Really?" Alicia asked, peeling off her school sweater. "Don't just do it because you're peeved at Fred."

Carly shook her head. "No, not cause of that. I just feel like, maybe if nothing happens with Fred, then maybe knowing a quidditch player thought I was fit is a bit of a confidence boost." 

Alicia studied her for a moment. "You know you're stunning, right, Carly? You shouldn't need a quidditch player to tell you that, or Fred Weasley either, for that matter."

"Thanks, Licia," Carly grinned, "and it's not just for that. How many other girls can say they were asked to write to a national quidditch player?"

"Fair enough," Alicia laughed, flopping back onto her bed.

Pulling out a piece of parchment and a quill, she settled on the floor beside her bed and started writing.

_Hi there, Mr. Lynch? Aiden?_

_Sorry, I'm not used to being asked to write to people. If you forget who I am, I'm the girl from the prime minister's box. I was with the redheads, oh and my name is Carly, that might be important. How is your head doing? You took a nasty hit, though I thought you played really well. I can't imagine how nerve-wracking it is playing in front of such a huge crowd. I did a live art show a few years ago, and I was so nervous I thought I would faint, course you can't do that on a broom, much more dangerous than fainting on an art easel. I've always wanted to learn how to fly, but I'm terrified of heights. Drat, probably shouldn't have told a quidditch player that you won't want to write back now. But if you do decide to write back, send it to Carly Halloway, Hogwarts School, Gryffindor Tower._

_-Carly_

She drew a little sketch of a quidditch player flying on a broom, arm outstretched towards a tiny snitch by her name. Folding her note into an envelope, she wrote his address on the front of the envelope, resolving to bring it to the owlery tomorrow morning before breakfast.

................................................................................................................................................................

Hogwarts in the early mornings was beautiful. The sun rose over the east mountains and cast a golden light onto the grounds, illuminating the ancient castle's turrets and towers. It was also the best time to post a letter, the owlery was always empty, and the owls rustled softly in their perches. 

As she entered the small tower, her Barn Owl Gia fluttered down from her spot in the rafters and perched on Carly's shoulder, nibbling her ear affectionately.

"Bit early for a voyage, sorry Gia," Carly said, smoothing her hand over her owl's head and placing the letter in Gia's waiting beak "make sure this gets there."

Carrying her over to the window, Carly lifted her arm so she could fly easily out into the sun-drenched valley. 

Taking a deep breath of morning air, she couldn't help the feeling of excitement and elation that filled her lungs as she thought about the coming year. She hadn't had much time to process the excitement of the tournament, but she was starting to feel it now. While she couldn't enter herself, being born in June and all, she was still excited about new students and exciting events to look forward to.

Unfortunately, her elation and happiness over the year's excitement were not meant to last, as the sound of familiar voices burst her bubble of anticipation. 

"You don't think we were too accusatory in the letter, do you?" She heard George ask

"No, definitely not," Fred responded. "Now come on, let's get this off quickly."

The unmistakeable voices of the twins were coming up the stairs to the owlery, and with nowhere to hide or another route to take, Carly pushed the door of the Owlrey open and marched past them on the stairs.

"Oi Carly," She heard Fred call after her, "come back for a sec."

"I'm busy," She called, not bothering to look back as she marched down the stairs.

"Doing what?" George yelled down the stairs

"Leaving," she shouted.

Marching down the rest of the stairs, she began heading towards the great hall for breakfast, feeling decidedly less sympathetic towards early mornings. 

There was hardly anyone in the great hall, only professor Mcgonogall and professor Flitwick were at the staff table, and three other students were sat at the Gryffindor table so she had first pickings of breakfast. Heaping her plate with eggs and sausages before pulling out her sketchbook and pencils, she began searching the hall for inspiration. Quiet moments were hard to find in this castle, especially if you usually kept the company of the Weasley twins. Was Carly being petty? Perhaps. Was she going to continue being petty? Perhaps. She would have to see how the rest of the day went.

As she shovelled eggs into her mouth with one hand, she traced the rafters of the great hall into her notebook, taking time to depict how the rays of sunlight streamed in between the old wooden beams.

Lost in thought, she hadn't noticed Angelina slide into the seat next to her.

"That looks great, Carls."

Calry jumped, startled by her friend's appearance. 

"Oh hey Ang, you're up early," she noted 

"Yeah, too used to Olivers quidditch schedule. The second I'm back at Hogwarts, my body tells me it's time to wake up at 5 am," the other girl laughed, pouring herself some cereal. "I suppose we'll get to see our NEWT schedules today. Suppose this is our first step to a job once we're out of here. Do you know which classes you're going to take?"

Carly shrugged. Truth be told, she hadn't thought much about which classes she would be taking because she didn't see herself having a magical career. Or at least a magical career that would require super-advanced magic, and while she had done really well on her owls (Four O's, two E's and three A's), she still didn't plan on working a ministry job.

"Honestly, no," Carly said, "I just know that I am NOT taking potions. The less I see of that greasy git Snape the better my year will be. What about you?" 

Angelina also shrugged. "I'm not sure. It's sort of embarrassing, but I really want to go pro in quidditch, and with this one year of no quidditch, that could really affect my ability to get noticed, so I guess I ought to think about something else now."

"I'm sure it won't matter too much," Carly assured her. "You're brill at quidditch, and it's not like you won't be able to practice or play for fun this year!"

"True," The other girl reasoned, "I suppose I'll just have to keep working at it on my own time."

As the girls chatted away about what they wanted to do when they left school, the hall slowly started to fill with other students, and as the students filed in, the heads of houses began passing out schedules. When McGonagall reached the two girls, Carly had more or less figured out which of the classes she was going to take, deciding only to take the classes that would be useful in her daily life.

"Now, Miss Halloway, last we spoke, you were quite unsure about which direction you were heading after school," McGonagall said, peering over her spectacles at Carly "is that still the case?"

"well, no professor," Carly admitted. "I've decided I want to be an artist."

The professor raised her eyebrows, but a smile quirked at her lips. "I can't say I'm surprised. Your homework diagrams have always been exceptional. You could always work as an illustrator for textbooks."

Not wanting to scandalize the professor by telling her she meant tattoo artist Carly just nodded at the suggestion, agreeing to continue on in Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy, and Ancient Runes.

Angelina leaned over, examining Carly's schedule, "Hey, we have everything but Astronomy and Ancient Runes together! I wonder what everyone else will have on their schedule."

As if on queue, Alicia, the twins, and Lee entered the hall accompanied by Katie Bell, the other chaser on the quidditch team.

"I should head out the Ancient Runes. It's on the other side of the castle," Carly said, shoving one last piece of toast into her mouth and sliding her sketchbook into her bag. "I'll see you in defence!" 

Leaving the hall, she sent a wave to Lee and Alicia and headed up the main staircase towards the castle's east wing.

The NEWT level ancient runes class was a small one, and thankfully Marcie Willis of Hufflepuff, her ancient runes partner, had decided to carry on as well. Carly had decided to take ancient runes because of Bill and his curse-breaking. When she was younger, she had briefly considered being a curse breaker. Bill was her idol, and having someone so popular and well-liked be friendly with you was as much of an ego boost as it was intimidating. She ended up liking ancient runes regardless of Bill's influence; she liked drawing them and incorporating them in her tattoo designs.

Professor Babbling just had them doing translation sheets to test where they were at knowledge-wise, so an easy first class. By the time the bell signalling the end of class rung Carly had finished her sheets and was looking forward to defence against the dark arts. She was used to new professors, and they did seem to be getting better. She was going to miss professor Lupin greatly. He had honestly been the best professor they had has, though Moody did seem promising.

"Shall we head to defence?" Marcie asked her

"We shall," Carly grinned, linking her arm with Marcie's.

Marcie was a huge sweetheart. She stood at a whopping 5'2" with a head of long curly blonde hair and warm brown eyes that could melt ice. She was probably the nicest person Carly had ever met. Marcie always joked that when she was with Carly, she felt like she looked like a badass. Carly's association with the twins had definitely given her a bit of a reputation though she wasn't sure how much of it was deserved. She thought it was perhaps the fishnet shirt she had been dress coded for in the fourth year or the smudgy eyeliner and black lipstick phase she had gone through in the third, but she had noticed first years tended to give her a wide berth.

As the two walked to the defence against arts class in the south wing of the castle, they chatted excitedly about what Moody would be like.

Marcie's mum was an Auror and had heard all sorts of stories of the professor's time in the field. 

"Mum says he's seen it all," the shorter girl said as they neared the classroom. "He's probably the best suited, though he's probably going to be a bit intense. I feel bad for the first years."

"They're a tough crop this year, I'm sure," Carly assured her.

It took them a bit to walk to the classroom from their ancient runes class, and it seemed everyone in their year was eager to see what Moody was like. By the time they got there, there were only two empty seats and the class was deadly silent, everyone waiting eagerly for Moody to arrive. One at the front next to George, and one in the back next to Philipa Martinez, one of Marcie's fellow Hufflepuff's.

"I'm gonna go sit with Philipa!" Marcie whispered, squeezing Carly's shoulder, "I'll see you after!" 

Carly groaned internally. Being petty from afar was far harder than being petty up close.

Dragging her feet to the front of the class, she sat down next to George, making a point not to look at him.

"I thought we weren't speaking," he whispered, leaning over to her. 

"We aren't," She whispered back, still avoiding his gaze.

"Hard to do that when you sit next to me." She could hear the smirk in his voice

"Well, seeing as it was the last seat available, I didn't have much of a choice," she hissed back, pulling out a roll of parchment and a quill.

she heard him pull his chair closer to hers. "You're being really petty. You know that, right?"

"I'm well aware," She assured him.

She was sure he had another comeback, but at that moment, professor moody, stumped into the classroom, cutting off any hushed conversations that were happening. 

He was more battle-worn up close. He was missing a chunk of his nose, and his face bore a deep scar that stretched from one end of his face to the other, cutting through where his real had originally been. In its place was an electric blue false eye that whizzed around, searching the students' faces. 

"Now, before I take the register, make sure you have a quill and parchment out. I hate wasting time," he growled. His voice was scratchy and grumbly as if he had spent a lifetime shouting.

There was a scrape of chairs as those who hadn't brought out their quill and parchment did so. She knew many had been hoping for a strictly practical lesson like lupin had given last year.

"Now, the register," Moody said, pulling the attendance list out from a drawer in his desk. "Sixth years, right? Starting your NEWTS? Hope you lot are considering being an Auror." 

He had rendered the class silent, but there were a few timid nods from the sixth years.

Moody began reading off the names, checking them off as he went.

"Halloway, Carly"

Carly raised her hand "here, sir."

The professor stopped, both eyes sweeping over her face.

"Halloway? Your father must have been Andrew Halloway," He said, setting down the register.

"Yes, sir," she said, her stomach turning knots.

"Tragic, tragic his death," The professor said, shaking his head woefully. "Brutal too. I was there the day he died, you know. Never seen anything like it."

"Sir?" Carly asked, her breath caught in her throat 

"brutal his death," The professor continued. "Course we'll be learning all about inferi later in the class." 

A low murmur swept through the class. "What do Inferi have to do with her father?" Roger Davies piped up, looking confused at their professor's statement.

"Andrew Halloway was a brilliant wizard, took 6 death eaters to bring him down," Professor Moody began. "And when they brought him down, they knew it would be a waste. They turned him into an Inferi, nearly strangled his pregnant wife to death. Blasted his carcass off her myself."

His voice was hollow in her ears. Carly was shaking. She could feel everyone's eyes on her back, so she dug her nails into her thigh to distract her. She never knew. No one ever told her, not her aunts, not Mrs. Weasley, not her professors, no one. The sound of the classroom had faded to a dull wringing, and she found herself struggling to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooooh, a cliffhanger? Thanks for the kudos and comments, they mean the world!! please feel free to leave a comment if you feel like it :D


	8. Small Circles and Cigarettes

_"They turned him into an Inferi, nearly strangled his pregnant wife to death. Blasted his carcass off her myself."_

His words were bouncing around her skull, seeming to stab her from the inside.

Death Eaters had killed her father. Her mother had died in childbirth. But was that even true? Had something else happened?

Her nails were biting into her thigh, dangerously close to piercing her skin, but she couldn't stop. If she did, she knew she would cry, and she couldn't cry in class. With one hand on her thigh and the other on her quill, Carly kept her eyes focused on her parchment, perhaps she should try and hear what professor Moody was saying, but she couldn't. Images of her father's lifeless body, of that lifeless body attacking her mom, they were flashing through her mind like a horror movie she couldn't turn off. 

Before her nails could draw blood, she felt a hand slip into hers, pulling her fingernails away from her skin. 

George had taken her hand, though his eyes remained firmly on the professor. 

Under normal circumstances, she would have batted his hand away. She didn't want sympathy when she was trying to be petty.

But his hand was gripping her's with a strength she found herself clinging to. His hand was rough and dry, where as hers was clammy and soft. Years of painting and drawing had given her callouses on her right hand, but he held her left. She could feel his callouses though, from years of wielding a beater's bat. The large callous on the heel of his hand, or the one on the inside of his thumb that was rubbing small circles into the back of her hand. 

A part of her brain told her to shake his hand off that she shouldn't want to keep holding his hand, not when he was Fred's brother. But the small circles he was tracing were melting away the panic that clung to her like ice, and she could slowly begin breathing again. 

"If you want to leave, tell me, and I'll make a distraction," He whispered to her, leaning in so she could hear him.

Carly shook her head. She didn't trust herself to speak, but she couldn't leave. That would be obvious, and people would stare. She had to put on a brave face. But she squeezed his hand, telling him not to let go.

And he didn't. He held her hand for the whole class, through Moody's demonstration of the unforgivable curses, through his rants about death eaters, his thumb was still tracing those small circles into her knuckles. She seemed memorized his hand over the hour that class took place, where his callouses were, the scars undoubtedly from fireworks and other pranks. She shouldn't want to keep memorizing his hand, but she did. 

Finally, after what seemed like ages, the bell rang, signalling the end of classes and the beginning of lunch.

Carly found herself reluctantly letting go of Georges's hand so she could pack up, but her hand felt cold when she did.

The class wordlessly shuffled out of the classroom, all seemingly in shock.

Someone grabbed her wrist once they were all out in the hallway. 

"Carly." She heard Fred say. That was all it took. 

She burst out crying, great heaving sobs that made her drop her bag on the floor and press her face into his chest.

She felt his arms wrap around her shoulders, holding her tightly to his chest. She could feel those butterflies again, but they were mixed with something else. Something she couldn't place her finger on. 

"Did you know?" she heard him ask, his voice vibrating through her chest and settling in her bones.

"No." She sniffed, "not any of that. I just knew he had been killed."

"I'm sorry, Carly, I really am," He said, pulling away from her and placing his hands on her shoulders.

She could see Lee, Angelina, and George all standing behind Fred with similar looks on their faces. 

"Do you feel like lunch Carly?" Alicia asked, coming up and gripping her hand. "We can always grab some sandwiches and go to the common room, just hang out until the next period?" 

Carly shook her head, sniffing " No. No, if we do that, I'll wallow. I can't wallow. Let's get Lunch."

The group set off to the dining hall. Fred kept an arm around her shoulders, and Alicia held her hand.

As the group found a seat at the Gryffindor table, Carly could feel the unease that had settled over her friend group. 

"People are staring, arent they," Carly asked, aware of how the hall seemed to have centred on her.

"You're imagining it," Alicia insisted. "No one is starring."

Carly nodded but kept her eyes down on her plate. She couldn't seem to find it in her to eat the bowl of soup that seemed to stare back at her. 

"Miss Halloway?" the group jumped, all so on edge they hadn't noticed their head of house come up beside their spot at the table. "Might I speak to you for a moment?"

The older witch looked rather out of breath, her cheeks were flushed, and a few strands of hair had fallen out of her normally iron tight bun.

"Of course, professor," she said, already knowing what was going to happen. 

"Do you want me to come?" Fred asked, standing up also reaching for his bag

"No, no, I'm okay, Freddie," she insisted, wanting to have this conversation with her head of house alone.

Getting up from the table, she followed Professor Mcgonogall wordlessly out of the hall.

"We'll go to my office if you don't mind," She said, placing a hand on Carly's shoulder and steering her through the castle towards her office.

It felt as if she were walking through an echo. Her senses were numb, and her mind was wandering of its own accord. Her father's face flashed through her mind, but where she knew warm brown eyes should be, there were pale, lifeless ones.

When they reached the professor's office, Carly found herself seated in an armchair across from McGonagall.

"Now, Miss Halloway," The professor began, searching the younger witch's face sincerely, "It is my understanding that during class, an... unfortunate occurrence happened where... the details of your father's death were shared."

Carly just nodded, feeling mute. 

"And it is also my understanding," the professor continued, pushing her square spectacles further up her nose, "that you were... unaware... of the circumstances of your father's death."

Again Carly just nodded. She had delved deep into her own head, her body a shell for the thoughts and anxiety that was blooming in her chest like a balloon ready to pop.

"I can imagine that of all things, you feel angry," Mcgonnogal said

Carly looked up in surprise, angry? Carly wasn't sure what she felt, but anger was the main emotion burning through her, though she had yet to express her anger truly. She was still too numb with shock, and she was surprised that the professor had noticed it at all.

"I understand how it feels to find out something significant has been kept from you," her head of house elaborated, "and whilst it has ALWAYS been my wish for you to know the whole story, your aunts, Professor Dumbledore, and others felt they were protecting you from knowing such things."

Carly felt her stomach roll, "Dumbledore knew?" she asked quietly. 

The professor sighed, leaning back in her office chair. "You're father was a great wizard, exceptionally talented, and fiercely passionate about protecting those he loved. And he loved your mother, and you, desperately," she explained. "And when he who must not be named came to power, he fought with every fibre of his being to ensure that your mother was safe. He worked alongside Professor dumbledore and many others in the fight against the dark lord."

Carly could feel the sting of tears beginning to form. She had never expected her first day back to be such an emotional roller coaster.

"When his death occurred, and what happened... happened. Your aunt discussed it with Professor Dumbledore, and they both wanted to protect you from it. They didn't want you to somehow blame your father for what happened, and Carly," McGonagall said, drawing Carly to look her in the eyes, "your father was a hero, and what happened to him and your mother was the work of dark and evil people. And forgive my candour, but Allister had no right to use it as a teaching lesson, and I will be having strong words with my colleague about his actions rest assured." 

Carly had never seen her professor so upset, let alone speak ill of another teacher, even Lockhart.

"I just hope that you can understand that your aunts were not trying to keep you from the truth but rather protect you from it." the professor finished, studying her student intently but kindly.

"Thank you, professor," Carly breathed. "I still... might need time, though, to not be too angry."

"Of course," McGonagall assured, "Now, I feel it's perfectly reasonable for you to take the rest of the day off if you wish. I can write a note to your other professors and let them know you have my permission to be absent."

"That would be wonderful, professor, thank you," she whispered, suddenly feeling choked up.

"Now why don't you go back to the Gryffindor common room. I'll write to your aunts and let them know what's happened as well." The professor said, standing up from her desk.

"And Carly, you should know," she continued as she held open her office door for Carly, "Your father and mother were two of the kindest and bravest people I ever knew. And I'm reminded of them every time I look at you."

............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

By the time Carly had finished her meeting with Professor McGonagall, afternoon classes had already begun, and mercifully the halls were empty. News spread like wildfire at Hogwarts, the castle might have been big, but the entertainment was often found in the gossip and rumours that students would hold onto for weeks.

By the time Carly got to her dorm, she was exhausted and anxious. Less anxious than she had been before her talk with professor McGonagall, but her heart was still hammering away in her chest.

Despite her promise to Alicia, Carly pulled a cigarette box and silver lighter out of her bedside table. Cracking open the dorm window, Carly lit the fag with a click of her lighter and took a long, deep drag, leaning out of the tower window to exhale. No one was allowed to be mad at her about this. She'd had a shit day.

As she watched the smoke from her cigarette she felt herself mulling over everything that happened. It hadn't just been a shit day, it had been a confusing one too. Her head was not only muddled with anger towards her Aunt from keeping the truth about her fathers death from her, but it was also muddled with a pang of uncomfortable guilt at the ease holding Georges's hand had given her. And the way she frankly hadn't wanted to let go. But then Fred had hugged her, held her in a way that always made her feel safe. 

Taking one last drag of her cigarette, she stubbed it out before vanishing the evidence with her wand. Leaving the window open to make sure the scent didn't linger, she flopped onto her four-poster bed. 

In fourth year Alicia had carved her's and Fred's initials into the top of Carly's bedpost as a joke, so every time she went to bed, she would fall asleep staring up at CH+FW. Fred had occupied her thoughts and feelings for so long, but surely it was understandable that she felt the same comfort Fred afforded her with George in a moment of weakness. They were identical, after all. However, she had always been able to tell them apart based not only on personality but also how they looked. Fred had broken his nose when he was 10, and he had a small bump on the bridge of his nose. George had a tiny scar that sliced through his left eyebrow from the time Ron threw a quill at him.

Carly scrubbed her hands over her face. She had to stop thinking about the boys. First and foremost, they were her friends, and she wasn't about to start confusing her romantic feelings for Fred with her platonic feelings for George.

Emotionally exhausted and in desperate need of a nap, Carly stripped off her uniform and crawled into bed, falling asleep staring up at the initials carved into the top of her four-poster bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I promised Sunday but unfortunately had some tech difficulties!!! Hope you enjoy the chapter! Please leave a comment if you feel like it! They mean the world and keep me writing :)


	9. Sleeplessness and Morning Post

Carly slept all the way through until the next morning. Well, three in the morning. She had been woken by a dream, one she couldn't remember, though it had been a dream that made her heart race and palms sweat, and not in a good way.

Pulling on her dressing gown and grabbing her pad of drawing paper, she slipped quietly out of her dorm, not wanting to disturb the other four sleeping girls. 

She had expected the common room to be empty, but a familiar head of hair was sitting by the fireplace, seemingly undeterred by the late hour.

"You're up late," She observed, slipping into the armchair beside Harry.

"Couldn't sleep," the younger boy replied. The light of the dying fire made him look far older than he was. "bad dreams."

she nodded, "I understand the feeling."

Harry turned to look at her, the firelight reflecting in his glasses. "I heard about what happened with Moody. Are you okay?"

Carly thought for a moment, her mind replaying her conversation with McGonagall. "I think I will be. I just need time."

"I know how you feel, you know," he assured her. "I grew up thinking my parents died in a car crash, then Hagrid told me what really happened, and then you know." He paused, seemingly searching for the right words, "I was angry for a while that everyone else knew before I did, but at least your aunt didn't tell you because she loved you. Mine didn't tell me because she hated who my mother was, who I am."

Carly wasn't sure what to say. Harry always seemed to be holding the weight of the world on his shoulders, and he loathed to let others share it.

"They say you can't choose your family," Carly remarked. "But I think you can."

Harry turned back to the fire, considering what she had said. "I suppose you're right," he replied 

"And your nightmares? Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, knowing the answer would most likely be a no.

"Not yet," He sighed, shaking his head, "maybe later, but not yet."

Carly couldn't imagine how he was feeling. The dark mark, the mark of you know who hadn't been seen for nearly 14 years, had surfaced at was supposed to be one of the most exciting nights of his life. And there it had been, floating over his head, the mark that symbolized the death of his parents.

"You know when you do want to talk about it. I'm here." Carly insisted

He turned and smiled at her. "I know you are Carls." 

They lapsed into a comfortable silence, Harry reading, and Carly sketching his side profile. Only when the sun began to peek above the mountains did either of them stir from their place.

"I should try and get some sleep," Harry sighed, nudging her sketchbook lightly with his knee, "and so should you."

"I've had too much sleep," Carly insisted, "The last thing I need is to go back to bed. But I should get dressed. Lounging in my robe doesn't exactly give off the air of 'put together and doing well'"

Harry snorted, "well, you're always put together in my mind Carly, especially at your 16th birthday party."

"Oh, shut it," Carly laughed, tossing a couch pillow at the younger boy.

Her sixteenth birthday party had been a mess. Well, all her birthdays had been a mess. Her birthday was right after exams ended and right before everyone went home for summer. As such, Fred and Lee had always treated her birthday like it was the best day of the year. And that usually meant them pouring firewhiskey down her throat until Alicia carried her upstairs.

As Harry went back up to his dorm, Carly turned back to her sketch, a profile she had done of Harry, looking into the fire. Turning her pencil around, she erased the frown she had drawn, instead, drawing a smile.

............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

Carly's dormmates were still asleep when she re-entered the room, so she took advantage of the free bathroom and got ready.

Five girls getting ready in the morning had always been hectic, especially when there was only one shower with good water pressure and two sinks. But with a free bathroom, Carly took her time getting ready, properly soaking in the shower and even taking the time to do her makeup for once. If people were going to be staring at her, then at least her eyebrows would look good.

the other girls were just stirring as she left the bathroom, Alicia looking at her carefully 

"Hey Carls, how are you doing?" she asked, sitting up in her bed, her hair still in a bonnet. "I wasn't sure if I should wake you yesterday."

"It's all good," Carly assured her friend, moving to the door of their room to head down to breakfast. "I needed the sleep, honestly."

"Want to wait for a few minutes, and we can head down together?" Alica suggested, beginning to pull out her clothes for the day. 

"Yeah, I'll wait in the common room," Carly said before closing the door to the dorm behind her.

The common room was still relatively quiet, though a few nervous looking first years had congregated by the door waiting for their classmates to wake up. It was common for the first years to move in a group until they had learned their way around the castle. 

"Morning," a voice drawled suddenly behind her, causing her to jump.

"Merlin George, you startled me," she gasped, turning around and clutching her chest "are you trying to give me a heart attack."

"Well, it was on today's agenda," he grinned, "though I did have it pencilled in for 10:00, and I'm happy to say I'm ahead of schedule."

"Bugger, you'll have to do better next time. I'm unfortunately still standing" she grinned, looking up at him. He seemed tired, he had bags under his eyes, and his long hair needed a more thorough combing.

"You seem tired. Why are you up so early?" she asked, noting his appearance 

he shrugged, "had a hard time sleeping."

"You and everybody else," she sighed, "seems like half the castle was awake last night."

He nodded, shoving his hands in his robe pockets before studying her face carefully. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Carly insisted, knowing she was going to get sick of people asking that really fast. "but thank you, for you know, being there yesterday."

"Yeah, of course," he shrugged casually, though she noticed his neck had flushed somewhat. "Want to go down to breakfast? Fred's still knocked out cold, so I doubt he'll be down anytime soon."

"I'm waiting for Alicia," Carly said, "come down with us!"

as if on queue, Alica came down the stairs of the girl's dormitories

"You're up early," she noted to George.

"So I've been told," he joked.

As the three of them made their way down to the great hall, Carly suddenly realized she would most likely be faced with a letter from her aunts. She had yet to sort out how she was truly feeling about them hiding the truth from her, but some of her anger had dissipated after her chat with both McGonagall and Harry. 

Sure enough, she was greeted by Gia, who had a letter clutched in her beak, and a school owl who was sat on top of a parcel and two letters. Hooting gratefully, when Carly untied the parcel from the school owl's leg, it leaned over and stuck its beak in Georges's goblet of pumpkin juice. Gia nipped Carly's ear affectionately before nibbling on some toast.

"You're popular this morning," Alicia said, taking in Carl's stack of mail.

The first letter was from her aunt Melanie, and it felt like she had written her niece a novel based on how thick the envelope was.

_Carly,_

_We got Minerva's letter yesterday evening, so I'm hoping this will reach you by morning. I'm truly sorry that you had to find out about what happened to Andrew in that way. Lucy and I had been planning on telling you once you turned 17, we wanted you to be old enough to understand that your father was not responsible for what happened to your mother. We felt that once you had spent enough time amongst other witches and wizards and had a deeper understanding of the magic used against your father, you would be better equipped to handle it. I can see now that we might have been wrong in thinking this. I understand that you will be angry with your aunt and me, and others who knew as well. You have every right to be angry with us, especially me, but please know we were just trying to protect you. Your aunt Lucy has also written you a note (and I have elected to turn a blind eye to what she sent you as well), we hope that in time you will forgive us, I might only be your aunt, but I see you as my daughter and would do anything to protect you. I made mistakes in my haste to do so and kept you from things you had a right to know. Take your time to write back. Please don't feel pressured. We don't need an immediate response._

_I love you so much,_

_-Melanie_

Carly folded her aunt's letter, her anger towards her aunts dissipating even more. She knew that Melanie saw her as a daughter. Melanie had always wanted kids of her own before she became Carly's guardian. Turning then to her aunt Lucy's letter, it was much shorter compared to her aunts. She had also sent a magazine cutting from W.A.R.T (Wizarding artistry today), a magazine that Lucy loved pawing through.

_Hey Kid_

_I'm sure Mel has said everything that needs to be said in that novel she's writing to you at the kitchen table, but I know I need to write my own. I'm sorry your professor is a narc, and I'm sorry we kept the truth from you. This will be a good year for you, we heard about the tournament, and I sent you a little something to keep your mind off everything._

_OPEN IN YOUR DORM INFRONT OF PEOPLE YOU TRUST._

_I sent you some of Kenji's best and a tattoo machine I saw an ad for in W.A.R.T. I'm not sure how it works, but I'm sure you'll figure it out. Stefan says to start on Oranges and then leather if you can find it. I'm sure you'll be able to find a spell to vanish tattoos. Melanie knows about the tattoo machine but not Kenji's finest, so don't tell her._

_Love you kiddo,_

_Lucy_

Carly nudged Alicia, pointing to where her aunt's note mentioned Kenji. Kenji was an old Hippie who lived a few doors down from them. He grew pot in his spare room (for medicinal purposes, of course) and regularly sold it to Lucy, who was sometimes kind enough to pass it on to Carly.

Alicia raised her eyebrows, grinning and nudging her.

"What are you two smirking at?" George asked suspiciously 

"Oh nothing," They both said in unison.

So excited about her new tattoo machine Carly nearly forgot about the last letter until George tossed it across the table at her. 

"You forgot one miss popular," he chimed in.

Opening it, Carly nearly dropped it when she saw who it was from. She had completely forgotten that she had written to Aiden Lynch, and frankly, she hadn't been expecting him to write back, let alone so quickly. 

_Dear Gorgeous Girl from the minister's box,_

_Carly? Miss Halloway?_

_I'll stick with Carly if that's okay._

_I'm so happy you decided to write to me! I was a bit worried you would have been put off by how banged up I was at the end of the match. My teammates haven't stopped teasing me about you not writing to me, but now I can finally tell them to shove it. I can't believe you are a Gryffindor too! Trust my luck! If you were a Slytherin, I might not have written back (only joking, of course). I hear that you guys are going to have a very exciting year with the tournament. Are you thinking of entering yourself? I was actually hoping to come up for the first event. My brother's working on it, so he offered me seats, and I'd love the chance to meet you when I'm not being held up by Shelby and O'Brian. Also, your fear of flying? Don't even worry about it. My mother refuses to even come to any of my games. She's so frightened of heights. You'd get along famously. Is that too far? Mentioning my mother in my first letter to a lass? Who knows. If you still feel like writing back after that ramble, I'd love it. Good luck on your first week back,_

_-Aidan_

Carly must have been blushing profusely because Alicia snatched the letter out of her hand and gave it a quick read through 

"Oh. My. God. You're dating a national quidditch player" she gasped 

George coughed into his cereal, looking shocked. "Sorry, you're WHAT?"

"I am not," she denied, snatching the letter back from Alicia. "Aidan Lynch just wrote back to me, is all."

"Aidan Lynch." George deadpanned, a funny look on his face

"He also asked to see you at the first event," Alicia smirked, nudging her friend. "Oh, Carly, he's gorgeous. You have to say yes!"

Carly normally would have been excited if Fred, Lee, and Angelina hadn't chosen that moment to join them at the breakfast table.

"Am I missing something here? The seeker of the Irish quidditch player asked Carly out." Fred asked, looking thoroughly amused at the situation. 

"Yes, he did." Alica grinned, looking at Fred expectantly. 

Fred seemed to find the whole thing rather funny, cracking jokes about how Carly would finally have to overcome her fear of heights, and hey, could she get them seasons passes? However, George remained quiet for the rest of breakfast, as did Alicia, who was shooting him questioning glances.

As the group got up to head to transfiguration, still chatting excitedly about Carly's new correspondence with Aiden Lynch, Carly couldn't help but feel a bit dejected by Fred's response. I mean, sure, she was excited that he had responded to her. Hell, he'd even called her gorgeous, but she had hoped that Fred would see it differently. Did she want Fred to be jealous? Yeah, maybe she did.

Just as they were entered McGonagall's class, she noticed that George and Alicia were no longer with the group.

"Where did Licia and George go?" she asked Lee, taking her regular seat between him and Fred.

"Alicia pulled him back, said she wanted to talk about something" Lee shrugged, pulling out his textbook, "He did seem a bit off at breakfast."

"He did say he didn't sleep well last night" she shrugged, remembering what he had told her in the common room earlier.

Just as class was about to start, Alicia and George slipped into class. George looked frustrated, and Alicia looked as if she had just been told Quidditch was banned permanently.

She tried to catch Alicia's eye, but her friend seemed determined to avoid her gaze.

So was the case for the rest of the day. George seemed to be in a foul mood, and Alicia was suddenly doing her best to dodge Carly's questions about what she and George had spoken about. 

It wasn't until Carly cornered her after dinner did she finally get some semblance of an answer.

"Look, George is just going through some stuff right now, okay?" Alicia relented, "I just sort of happened to find out, but I promised I wouldn't tell anyone. And I'm true to my word, okay?"

"Is he okay?" Carly asked, thinking about how demure he had seemed over the past two weeks.

"He will be," Alicia sighed. "I think he just has some stuff to sort out."

"Does Fred know? Maybe he'll be able to help more!" Carly suggested, taking her friend's arm as they walked back to the common room 

"Unfortunately, I think Fred would be little help," Alicia confessed, "best to let him sort it out on his own."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!! Your comments have been so wonderful! They keep me going <3


	10. Pastilles and New Arrivals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! I'm not one for writing summaries but I felt this was a good place to describe or give direction as to how I see Carly. If you search up Alice Pagani that's how I picture her in my head. As for Alicia, we don't really get a description of her in the books though and we don't see much of her in the movie. As such I see her looking a lot like the model Aiyanna Lewis! And you know what everyone else looks like! I hope your quarantine is going well and that you are staying safe!

Whatever George was going through, Carly was sure that he wasn't dealing with it in the best way. For the next three weeks, the number of pranks seemed to escalate beyond what was normal for the twins. George was usually the one to shoot down the more extreme ideas that Fred had. Now it seemed like he was giving the green light on everything and anything Fred came up with. This was why Carly was picking corn out of her hair. Halfway through dinner, the plates everyone was eating on suddenly rose into the air and dumped its contents onto the head of the person who had been eating off of it.

The twins had been smart enough to charm their plate to do the same, however considering they had avoided the corn chowder that everyone else had been enjoying, Carly was pretty sure they were behind it.

The pranks seemed to escalate every time she got a letter from Aidan Lynch, though Alicia had told her that the idea of there being a connection between the two was batty. Carly rather enjoyed writing to Aiden. He was funny, smart, and always had loads of stories to tell her about practice and games. A part of Carly hoped that maybe these letters were making Fred jealous. He would roll his eyes every time Alicia and Angelina would giggle excitedly when she got one at breakfast, though Carly contributed some of it to nerves. The twins were obsessed with entering the tri wizard tournament and had been brewing an ageing potion in their dormitory for the past month in hopes of being able to get past the age limit Dumbledore had mentioned. Lee had been complaining of the smell of it for the past week, when the potion supposedly reached "middle age," it began to smell of mildew and cats. 

The pranks, though, were nothing compared to the new sick-inducing candies the twins had been trying to perfect. Fred had talked Carly into testing one of them. Something called a fainting fancy, but she had been knocked out for the better part of an afternoon, so since then, they had been testing them on themselves.

As such, the morning of the other school's arrival, Fred and George were looking thoroughly put off in charms, hunched over their little purple notebook of ideas and recipes. 

"Why do you two look so sour?" Angelina asked them.

"It's our new puking pastilles," Fred explained, crossing something out in the little book. "George took it over an hour ago and nothing. Not so much as a burp."

"Well, that's good," Alicia sniffed, fixing them with one of her signature looks. She was starting to get the most annoyed out of all of them with the twin's escalation of pranks. Last week she had found herself sprouting yellow feathers on her face for nearly two days, and her patience was starting to wear dangerously thin.

As was professor Flitwick apparently, as halfway through the lesson, he became fed up with Fred and Georges whispering and made Fred and Carly switch places.

Carly begrudgingly sat down next to George, she didn't want to admit it, but part of her was annoyed that Fred and Angelina were now sitting very close together. Carly was also annoyed because George was seated rather close to the front, and it was hard to draw on an orange at the front of a class without being questioned by your professor. 

Carly had been practicing tattooing on oranges for the past two weeks. She was hoping to ask Hagrid if he had any spare leather around, but she hadn't had the chance to ask. She wanted to begin practicing on herself at the end of next week since she had perfected a charm to remove unwanted marks from her skin. 

Begrudgingly, Carly continued with her charm work. She almost didn't notice how quiet George had become. Chancing a glance at him, she could see that his wand had stilled, and he was staring intently at the little wooden figure they were supposed to be animating. His mouth was shut tightly, his brow beaded with sweat.

"George, are you alright?" Carly asked, "you look a bit... green."

Sure enough, his complexion turned from pink to green, to grey, then back to green again.

Carly's quick thinking was what saved both their notes, as she cleared the desk seconds before George threw up all over it.

"Merlin's beard!" professor Flitwick squeaked. "Mr. Weasley, are you alright?"

"Fine profess-" he cut himself off by throwing up again. 

"Ms. Halloway, would you please help Mr. Weasley to the hospital wing?" The professor asked, vanishing Georges sick off of the desk with a wave of his wand.

"Don't worry about your stuff!" Alicia called out to her, "we'll grab it at the end of the lesson if you aren't back."

George made it a few feet out the door before he shoved what looked like a green piece of gum down his throat.

"This should stop the vomiting, don't worry," he shuddered, wincing at the taste of what he had just swallowed. "Looks like the delayed reaction is far too delayed."

"So you're fine now?" Carly asked suspiciously. He still looked rather shaky and green.

"Yeah, I'm fine," George said, waving a hand. He ate his words a few moments later, as he ran to the nearest window and threw up out of it. "Okay, maybe I'm not fine," he confessed.

"Come on, let's get you to Pomfrey," Carly urged, gripping his elbow. 

"No, bathroom," he insisted, shaking his head and clutching his stomach.

They only just made it to the boy's bathroom before he was sick again. Under normal circumstances, locking herself into a stall in the boy's bathroom with George Weasley was not what she would ever do. But she happened to chance a look at the toilet over his shoulder, and his sick looked remarkably like blood.

Locking the stall door behind her, she dropped to her knees, trying to urge him to get up. But George heaved again, his brow sweaty and arms shaking as he held himself up over the toilet.

Carly kept one hand knotted in his long hair, keeping it out of his face. The other hand in between his shoulder blades, rubbing slow circles to try and calm him. His breathing was becoming shallower and quicker, and she was worried he might start panicking. Carly knew how quickly someone could become anxious over things like this, and it wasn't going to help if he started panicking and throwing up blood at the same time.

"Merlin George, those things clearly aren't meant for consumption," she said, frowning at the pallor of his complexion.

"Well, someone has to test them," he replied, his voice shaky, head still bent over the toilet "problem is they work too well. Antidote doesn't stay down long enough."

"Clearly," she deadpanned, "are you able to stand? We really need to get you to Madam Pomfrey."

"I just need to sit for a second," he sighed, letting out a shuttering breath "you don't need to stay here for this. Really I'm fine."

"You threw up blood George," Carly stated, giving him a stern look. "I'm not leaving you alone."

"And what if someone comes in and finds the two of us in a stall in the boy's bathroom? Someone might get the wrong idea," he teased, smirking at her. Though that smirk was quickly wiped off his face as another wave of nausea rolled through his body, causing him to almost collapse. Carly wrapped an arm around his waist to stop him from hitting the toilet.

"Seriously, George, we need to get you to the hospital wing," she said, worry lacing her tone "on the count of three, we'll get up, alright?"

Carly shuffled, so she was on her knees, keeping one arm around George's waist and the other on his back.

"Ready? One, two three," and with as much strength as she could muster, she heaved George to his feet. Not an easy task considering he was 6'3" of pure beater muscle

"Fuck" he hissed, wobbling on his feet

Carly gently manoeuvred him so he could lean against the stall to gain his balance back. She placed her hands on his shoulders to help steady him "just breathe, okay."

"Didn't plan on stopping," he replied, his head tipped back against the stall. His Adam's apple bobbed as he took a deep breath. "Okay. I'm good. Let's move."

Keeping an arm around his waist, the two of them slowly made their way to the hospital wing. They had to stop once so he could throw up into Filtch's unattended mop bucket, but thankfully that was the only stop they had to make.

When they finally reached the hospital wing, he all but collapsed into the nearest cot.

"I'll go get Madam Pomfrey," Carly called over her shoulder, racing towards the healers' office at the other end of the room. She had barely knocked when the older witch threw the door open "alright, what's happened now" she said with a stern glance around the room, her eyes landing on where George lay.

"Fred or George?" She asked Carly. The matron was well acquainted with the twins.

"George, he ate something and won't stop throwing up. The last few times, it looked like he was throwing up blood," Carly explained to the older witch as she followed her to his bedside.

George looked ghostly white now, his freckles grey against his skin. Madam Pomfrey began running diagnostic spells, gently pressing the tip of her wand to his wrist. Withdrawing her wand, she waved it once, and a series of runes and numbers came floating out of the tip.

"He'll need a blood replenishing potion," she said, waving her wand again. Out rattled a cart loaded with bottles of pre-made potions.

"Mr. Weasley, can you sit up?" Madam Pomfrey asked

George shuffled to a sitting position with Carly's help, but it still seemed to take what little strength he had. His forehead was beaded with sweat, and his breathing was laboured.

Madam Pomfrey loosened his tie and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. Taking her wand, she began tracing runes across his throat and collar bones.

"This should stop you from throwing the potion back up and give you a bit more strength," the healer explained before reaching over and grabbing a bottle of Dr. Du Sangs blood replenishing potion. "Now sip it slowly. You'll need to drink it over the course of an hour."

"Thanks, Poppy," George breathed, flashing a cheeky yet weak smile up at the healer.

"Don't thank me," Madam Pomfrey said before heading back towards her office "thank Ms. Halloway, she dragged your sorry behind across the castle. Now I'll be back in a moment to check on you."

"Are you feeling any better?" Carly asked, pulling a chair up to his bedside

"Yeah, a bit," he said before taking a slow sip of the potion. "Blegh, it tastes like iron."

"Better than bloody vomit," Carly said, crossing her arms and frowning at him "really, those things are dangerous. You shouldn't be eating them"

"Well, someone had to test them, best it's me," he shrugged.

"No, it's not best you test them. No one should be consuming something like that," she retorted, scooting her chair so she was right at his bedside "really, George, you had me worried."

George raised an eyebrow at her. "Well, if it means THE Carly Halloway will worry about me, I might consider it."

She rolled her eyes at him. "I always worry about you two. Seriously, you guys nearly kill yourselves every week with these products."

"Well, lamentably, I'm still here," he laughed, though his laugh didn't seem to reach his eyes.

"don't joke like that," Carly frowned, reaching out and catching his hand "seriously, those jokes aren't funny."

He didn't respond, but he squeezed her hand, taking another slow sip of the potion.

It was just then that the doors to the hospital wing banged open. Fred and Angelina had come to bring them their things.

"Damn George, we really need to work on that recipe," Fred laughed, walking over and dumping his twin's things onto the bed. "How long after would you say the effects took to kick in."

"Which effects? The one where he threw up normally, or the one where he threw up blood." Carly lectured, a bit pissed off by Fred's casual attitude towards the situation

"Blood?" Fred said, looking much less jovial. "You threw up blood?" he asked his brother.

"Unfortunately," George grimaced, "Mom's gonna have a cow when she hears about this."

"And rightfully so," she sniffed, feeling for the first time like she agreed with Mrs. Weasley's distaste for their joke shop products. "You guys need to be more careful."

"We will," Fred insisted, wrapping an arm around Carly and giving her a squeeze, "but after you passed out from our fainting fancy, we decided to switch to testing on us instead."

Carly couldn't help the blush that flashed across her face, but over Fred's shoulder, she noticed George was looking grey again.

"George, you really need to drink that potion," Angie urged, also taking note of their friend's complexion.

"Yes, he should," Mrs. Pompfrey agreed, coming up to George's bedside and taking his pulse. "You lot are distracting him, and I believe the other schools will be arriving soon. You should go find the rest of your house."

"feel better, George," Angie said, squeezing his shoulder on the way out.

"Yeah, Georgie, we need to get working clearly," Fred laughed, his arm still around Carly's shoulders.

"No, you don't," Carly frowned, giving Fred a light shove, "but do drink that up, George, we'll tell you all about the other schools tonight!"

George just nodded, clearly starting to feel ill again.

And with that, Madam Pomfrey ushered them out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!! Your comments have been so wonderful, they keep me writing and I'm glad people are liking it so far :)


	11. Goblets and Quidditch Players

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There will be no Fleur slander in this household. Am I taking creative liberties with her character? Yes. Is it because I believe there was ~sexism~ afoot when she was first written? Yes. Thank you to everyone who has commented!! your words are so kind and its nice to know there are people out there enjoying what I write! Hope you are all staying safe <3

The last time Carly had seen Professor McGonagall so on edge was when Ginny was taken by you-know-who two years ago. She had whipped her students into a tight standing formation, older students in the back, younger in the front. NO uniform infractions allowed, Parvati Patil got a talking to about a butterfly clip in her hair, and Alicia received a sharp word about hiking her skirt too high.

"Where's the other one?" McGonagall asked, noticing Fred was the only twin present.

"In the hospital wing, professor."

"Well, perhaps that's for the best." She stated, patting Fred's shoulder somewhat absent-mindedly, before moving on to inspect a giggling group of second years

Carly and Angelina shared confused glances but quickly turned back to Fred, who just shrugged. "I mean, she's probably right."

Carly just shook her head. The whole school had been on edge for the past week, eagerly awaiting the arrival of their rival schools. Most of Hogwart's male population were eager to meet the girls from Beauxbaton. Lee had been prattling on about that stupid fountain, insisting that it actually did make the students there more beautiful. The girls had just rolled their eyes, but Carly could already tell there was likely to be more than one emotional tiff involving their new schoolmates.

Carly was just excited because Hagrid was going to be at the welcome feast, and she was sure she would be able to get some leather from him. She and Alicia had eagerly unpacked the tattoo machine the day she received it from her aunts. It was a small, handheld device you stuck your wand into to make it work, her aunt had also included several inkpots, so Hogwarts was quickly becoming home to the words most decorated oranges.

She was pulled from her thoughts of bedazzled oranges by the shrieks of excitement that were suddenly rising from her fellow students. Despite the professor's best efforts, lines of students broke from the tight formation they had been headed into, running to the banisters to get a better look at the mass hurtling towards them in the sky.  
The closer it got, the bigger it became, until the outline of elephant-sized winged horses pulling a carriage loomed over the astronomy tower.

"Merlin, that carriage must be the size of a house," Angelina gasped, gripping Carly's wrist "that must be Bauxbaton."

And Bauxbaton it was. The carriage was easily the size of a muggle suburban house and was adorned in the most obnoxious rococo trimmings Carly had ever laid eyes on. It was like the palace of Versailles had spit up its own version of the cinderella carriage. 

The students themselves, though... well, Carly found herself suddenly believing what Lee had been saying about that magical fountain. The boys and girls that exited from the carriage were far too beautiful. Their blue silk uniforms made them look like vibrant wildflowers against the Scottish landscape's greens and grey. The looks on their faces, however, were not too beautiful. They looked up at the castle’s stone turrets with vaguely disguised looks of disgust as they climbed the steps to the entrance courtyard. Carly could only imagine what their school looked like if their carriage looked like pre-revolutionary France had a baby with a drag queen.

"Blimey, she's even taller than Hagrid."

Her attention was drawn from the students to their headmistress, who had just stepped into the courtyard. How Carly had missed her in the first place, she wasn't sure. She must have been at least two and a half meters tall, not including the expensive pumps she was wearing. Her height only just matched her grandeur, as her robes and furs made her look like an elegant, albeit exceptionally tall statue. 

"I think Lee was right about that fountain," Angelina whispered, pointing out one of the students in particular. The girl was tall, with long silvery blonde hair that fell down her back in waves, and an angular jawline that she would kill to sketch. Wherever the girl walked, eyes seemed to follow. Carly couldn't help tugging her own chin-length hair, comparing it to the silver waves the other girl had just tossed over her slim shoulder.

She had little time to oggle the french students anymore, as something grand burst from the black lake. At first, she thought it was the giant squid, fanning out its tentacles to enjoy the last few rays of dreary September sunshine, but it was a ship. A massive ship, with black billowing sales and ghostly green lanterns swinging from its decks.

"Ah, that'll be the Russians," Lee quipped.

"They aren't all Russian. Russia has its own school, Durmstrang takes most of northern Europe," Angelina pointed out.

"Yeah, but they teach in Russian. You don't suddenly speak Russian, do you, Carls?"

Carly frowned at him, "no, why should I suddenly speak Russian?"

he shrugged. "I didn't know you spoke French until a month ago."

"You didn't know she spoke French?" Alicia said drily, raising her eyebrows at him, "she writes to Melanie in French all the time. How have you not noticed?"

Again, he just shrugged.

If one were to draw a spectrum of poshness and put togetherness, the Bauxbatons students would be on one end, the Durmstrang students on the other, and Hogwarts smack dab in the middle. Not that the Durmstrang students looked scruffy, more that they were tactically dressed. Thick furs and capes seemed to be part of the uniform. And while the Bauxbaton students walked in perfectly manicured lines, noses turned up at Hogwarts. The Durmstrang students seemed to move at their own pace and form, admiring the castle's turrets and towers.

"I reckon I'm going to like the Durmstrang lot more than the Bauxbatons students," Carly whispered to Alicia. 

"Yeah, they look like they would be willing to let you mark them up with your tattoo machine."

"That is what I look for in friends, you know."

"Funny, you turned down my request for you to write your name on my ass."  
"Har har."

As the last of the Durmstrang students filed past them into the entrance hall, the Hogwarts students rushed eagerly after them.

Taking their regular seats at the Gryffindor table, Carly noticed several students were straining their necks towards the Slytherin table excitedly.

"What's everyone looking at?" Fred frowned, "since when did those gits become interesting."

"Maybe Theo Nott took his top off" Alicia shrugged, then having to duck a moment later when Fred chucked a napkin at her.

"Traitor"

"He's pretty."

"He's a Slytherin."

"A Slytherin with abs."

"He's our enemy. He's on their Quidditch team!"

"And Quidditch is how he got abs," Alicia grinned, shooting Carly a wink.

Fred just huffed, turning his attention back to the Slytherin table, standing up in his seat to try and get a better look.

“It’s probably just people trying to oggle the Durmstrang students,” Angelina said, pulling Fred back down into his seat. “And stop staring! We don’t want to make them feel awkward.”

People staring at them was probably the least of the Durmstrang student’s worries, as a few moments later Ron rushed up to them, an annoyed looking Hermione and Harry in towe “Guys, guys, guys!” 

“Ron, Ron, Ron!” Carly laughed, imitating the younger boy's excitement. “Where’s the fire?”

“No fire,” the younger boy gasped, leaning over to regain his breath. “One of the Durmstrang students,” he waved his hand towards the Slytherin table as he took another gulp of air, “is Victor Krum!”

The reaction from the others was immediate.

“No way!”

“Are you serious?”

“I didn’t know he was so young!”

“Do you think he’s going to enter?”

“Whose Victor Krum?”

All heads swivelled to Carly, and she was met with five varying looks of confusion and outrage.

“Whose Victor Krum?” Ron exclaimed, “Carly, you were at the world cup! He made your boyfriend hit the ground twice!”

Carly rolled her eyes. “Aidan is not my boyfriend. He’s more of a pen pal” she glanced quickly at Fred, who just looked confused about how she hadn’t known who Victor Krum was. “And I’m not a quidditch fanatic. I only know Aidan and Gwenog Jones. Ask me to name any other players, and I wouldn't be able to,” she finished. 

“Unbelievable!” Ron cried, throwing his hands up

“Oh, don’t listen to them,” Hermione insisted, sitting down beside Carly. “We’re going to have to deal with them carry on about him being here, aren't we.”

“Afraid so.” Carly mused.

As the last of the students filed into the hall, Carly couldn't help but look around to see if George had come in with them. She felt terrible that he was missing the welcome feast for the other students. Flitwick had let it slip they were finally going to see how the champion would be chosen. Carly thought it would be some sort of pre-competition, and anyone of age would be allowed to participate.

Dumbledore's welcome speech acknowledged the other school’s two heads, Igor Karkaroff of Durmstrang and Madame Maxime from Bauxbaton. When the latter of the two had entered the hall, her students had jumped to attention and waited until she sat down before resuming their seats.

“Merlin, imagine if we had to do that every time Dumbledore walked in,” Alicia quipped, shooting the French students a funny look.

The students in question were sat at the Ravenclaw table. While they were exchanging friendly conversations in English with the Hogwarts students, Carly could overhear conversations of a different tone in French.

“Vraiment, comment est-ce une salle à manger! C'est aussi froid et morne qu'un donjon” she overheard the boy directly behind her snip.

Carly couldn't help it, she spun around “merveilleux, il correspond à votre personnalité!” 

The boy at least had the gall to look embarrassed, and after that, any conversations within earshot of Carly were in English.

“What did you say to him, Carly?” Harry asked, leaning forward

“Oh, he was going on about how cold and dreary the hall was,” Carly sniffed, shooting the boy a dirty look over her shoulder, “so I told him it matched his personality.”  
Harry snorted, turning back to his stew.

She caught Fred’s eye, and he shot her an approving wink.

Halfway through the pudding, the beautiful girl Carly hat noticed earlier flounced up to the table. 

“Excuse me,” she asked, gently tapping Carly on the shoulder. “I would just like to apologize for the behaviour of my fellow students. I heard that they were rude. I hope you can forgive us. It seems we have made a bad impression before we have even begun to know one another,” she extended a graceful hand to her.

Carly smiled at the girl, taking the girl's hand. “It’s all forgiven.”

“Wonderful. My name is Fleur, and what might your name be?” she asked, smiling kindly at her. 

“Carly”

“Well, Carly, it was lovely to meet you and your friends!” Fleur said, smiling around at the group “à plus tard”

Carly turned back to her friends, Lee, Fred, and Ron had gone slack-jawed, eyes following Fleur back to her seat.

“Merlin, she has to be part Veela,” Ron sighed, eyes still glued to the back of Fleur’s head.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ronald,” Hermione sniffed.

All thoughts of Fleur were soon lost, as Dumbledore stood up, rendering the hall silent.

“Now I’m sure you have all been curious about how the school champion will be chosen” he waved his hand, and four wizards carried in a jewelled case, setting it down in front of the teachers’ table.

“As is tradition, eligible students will place their names here. In the Goblet of fire.”

With a wave of his wand, the jewelled case melted away, leaving in its place a great flaming goblet. Low murmurs swept the hall. The goblet bathed the great hall in an eerie blue light that made Carly shiver.

“An age line will be placed to ensure only those who are of proper age will be able to enter” Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes seemed to find Fred in the crowd. “To those who are planning on entering, know this. Once chosen, you stand alone. There is no backing out. You are locked in until the end.”

Carly felt her stomach clench. Merlin, she hoped that age line would account for ageing potions.

“Now I’m sure our guests are tired after their long day of travel. Off to bed, everyone!” He dismissed them with a final wave of his wand.

As they left the hall, Carly could feel eyes on the back of her neck, turning quickly. She was surprised to see that Igor Karkaroff was staring her down with a look somewhat akin to shock.

“Ms. Halloway,” a nasally voice stopped her in her path, “might I have a word.”

The potions master was looking down at her with his familiar grimace. 

“Umm, okay.” 

Her friends were shooting her confused and terrified looks, but she waved them off.

“Go ahead. I’ll meet you in the common room!” she called out to them, following Snape to a side corridor.

“Now it is not my desire to start salacious gossip amongst the students, which is why I am speaking to you under the promise you tell no one,” he said, hands clasped behind her back. He was avoiding looking at her.

Carly just nodded.

“I’m going to ask you to keep your distance from Karkaroff. Is that clear?” 

Snape had never made any attempt to talk to her, either in potions class or outside of it, so she was more than a little confused that he was now telling her to keep her distance from a man she had never met. 

“Why?”

“Why is not important.”

“It is if you’re asking me not to go near him,” she pointed out.

“Do not talk back,” the professor seethed, fixing her with a pointed glare “this is for your own good. I rarely bother myself with the affairs of students, let alone those outside of my own house, so consider this an indication of how important it is.” 

She stared at him, feeling a deep sense of fear starting to build, though about what she wasn’t sure.

“Am I understood?” he finished, glaring down at her.

“Yes.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir.” Carly finished. Snape had a power complex, that was for sure.

Seemingly satisfied, he unturned on his heel and marched off.

Carly’s walk back to the common room seemed to take forever. Her head was a mess. Today had been far too eventful for her liking. She needed a drink or a smoke. Either would do. She was so lost in her own thoughts she walked straight into someone, bouncing back onto the floor.

“Guess it’s my turn to take you to the hospital wing,” a familiar voice laughed.

“George!” she grinned, allowing him to help her up. “You’re out!”

“Yeah, Pomfrey wanted to keep me overnight, but I was not about the let that happen,” he said, returning her grin. “Where are the others? Why are you walking back alone?”

“Snape wanted to have a chat,” she grimaced. 

“Snape? What did he want?”

She looked around as if the potions master would swoop out like a great bat and yell at her. “He made me swear not to say.”

She looked back at George and found his brown eyes searching her face.

“Carly, are you okay?”

She couldn’t help but laugh, “weren’t you the one in the hospital wing?”

“I’m being serious Carls,” he reached out, placing his hands on her shoulder, “if you need to talk, I’m here.”

She reached up and covered his hands with hers, and against her wishes, her heart seemed to skip a beat. “Thank you, George. I appreciate it.” 

“Are you okay, though? You looked worse for wear when we left,” she continued, now searching his face for any signs of discomfort.

“Yeah, I’m all good. Still a bit queasy, but Pomfrey recommended I stick to ‘flavourless foods’ for a few days to come” he grimaced

“You’re still feeling sick, and you left?” she cried. “George, you should have stayed!”

“I’m fine, Carly,” he insisted, squeezing her shoulders gently, “but I appreciate the concern.” 

That’s when she realized her hands were still on his.


	12. Kenji and Ageing Potions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun with this chapter, ngl. I'm hoping to update every Wednesday/Tuesday, giving myself a week is super helpful, I was definitely trying too hard to do too much at once. Starting two ongoing fics might have been dumb but I just had too many ideas at once. I hope everyone is being safe!! 
> 
> Lots of love,
> 
> Chie <3

_"When tackling something as advanced as nonverbal summoning charms, one must remember to focus entirely on the object one wishes to summon. Deviation from that object can result in unwanted items being retrieved. For further reading, please consult; “How I summoned my sister in law.”_

Carly must have read that line 15 times. 

She and Alicia had been attempting in vain to tackle the mountain of homework they had been assigned. Their professors had been adding more and more work on top of their ever-growing stack. Every time they walked out of a classroom, their book bags seemed to grow heavier. Carly wasn’t even sure if it was worth it; she didn’t plan on having a magical career, at least in the typical sense. She wasn’t sure how taking her NEWT in herbology would help her be a successful tattoo artist. 

Sixth year meant preparations for NEWTS, and Carly wanted nothing more than to hurl her textbooks, and those blasted exams, into the black lake. In all honesty, Carly wanted to hurl herself into the black lake too. Her head had been so muddled she could barely concentrate on the essay she was supposed to be writing on non-verbal spells. She had been staring at the same page for nearly 10 minutes. Thankfully Alicia’s normally sharp eyes were buried in her potions textbook, Snape had assigned the sixth years a nasty essay on emotive potions, and she was grateful all over again that she hadn’t taken NEWT level potions. 

She was still trying to process the strange, albeit short, conversation she had had with the potions master. She had really wanted to tell someone, but she had heeded his warning not to. She had never known him to care about students, aside from those in his house, and for him to pull her aside like that meant something. The others had pestered her when she got back to the common room. She just told them that he wanted to ask her about some missing potion ingredients, a fib George had just raised his eyebrow at.

She had so wanted to tell George that evening. And that was also muddling her head. Why was George suddenly such a constant in her life? Sure they had mended their friendship, or rather cleared up a misunderstanding, but she couldn’t understand why George was suddenly filling more of her time (and head) than Fred was. It just didn’t make sense, and it was making her feel like she had whiplash.

Fred had always been a constant. He was always there. And now it felt like he was slipping away, despite the fact nothing had really changed. It used to be Fred’s touch that made appearances in her daydreams. Now all she could think of was how George had held her hand during their first DADA class.

“Carls?”

Alicia had finally noticed the blank stare she was giving her textbook.

“Ugh, sorry, I’m just tired,” she sighed, sitting back in her chair. “I feel like my brain is leaking out of my ears.”

“You’re telling me,” the other girl sympathized. “I’m regretting taking potions big time.”

“Too bad, you want to be a journalist. They need to make potions all the time.” 

“You know, Carly, I choose to remain friends with you, and that’s a choice I can easily reverse.”

Carly let out a laugh that earned her a stern glare from Madam Pince.

“Why don’t we go stretch our legs? We can go check out the Durmstrang ship?” she suggested, nudging her friend “we can hang out with Kenji while we’re at it!”

Hanging out with Kenji meant pulling from her pot stash.

“You know it has been too long since we hung out with the poor bastard,” her friend sighed in mock thoughtfulness, “suppose we ought to pay him a visit.”

After dropping off their things in the sixth year girls dormitory, they pocketed a doobie from Carly’s stash and headed for the edge of the grounds. Though it was unlikely that they would run into anyone by the edge of the forest, they still did their best to tuck themselves behind the shrubbery.

“who do you think the Hogwarts champion will be?” Alicia asked, lighting the blunt with a tap of her wand “I hope the champion is a Gryffindor, though in all honesty, as long as it’s not a Slytherin, I’ll be pleased.”

Carly nodded, “I might have to route for Durmstrang if a Slytherin gets chosen. They would be insufferable, wouldn’t they? Especially if they won. ”

“Absolutely unbearable.” Alicia agreed, passing the blunt to Carly, “did you hear Angie's thinking about put her name in?”

“Yeah, not going to lie, the thought she’ll get chosen terrifies me.”

“What! Why?” Alicia said, looking shocked. “It would be awesome for her to compete!’

“I just don’t like the thought of my friends getting hurt. You heard the Headmaster! ‘Once chosen you stand alone’, that’s terrifying!”

“Aren’t you a Gryffindor?” Alicia quipped, taking the blunt back from Carly

“Hey! Bravery comes in many forms.”

“Alright, Dumbledore.”

Carly snorted, grabbing the blunt back from Alicia and taking a deep drag. The Anxiety that had been hovering over her in the library was slowly starting to ebb away, thought that could be because she was now desperately craving a pumpkin pasty.

“Have you told Aidan about Krum being at Hogwarts?” Alicia smirked, giving her friend a cheeky look.

Alicia had been teasing her about Aidan’s letters more and more, especially since he had sent her a photo of him at practice (admittedly, he did look VERY good in that photo). 

“Yes, I did.”

“And?”

“And what.”

“What did he say!” Alicia exasperated, giving her friend a wary look, “you’re so secretive about him it’s annoying.”

“Well, excuse me for having a private life.”

“I sleep beside you. You don’t have a private life when it comes to me.”

Carly chucked a stick at her. “Well, if you must know, he said Krum’s actually a good bloke. Vicious on the pitch but rather mellow off, they went to training camp together for the EU league two years ago.”

“And did he say anything about how Krum crushed him at the world cup?”

Carly chucked another stick at her. 

“Hey! I’m just curious!”

“Aidan didn’t mention,” Carly elaborated before taking the final pull from the blunt, “but if I had any guesses, I would say he wasn’t too annoyed. Aidan doesn’t seem to take things too seriously.”

“Not even your relationship?”

“Merlin, Licia, we don’t have a relationship!” Carly laughed, chucking yet another stick at her friend “if we did, I would have hoped I’d be over Fred!”

Alicia stopped, the grin on her face fading slightly “so you’re still on Fred?”

“Don’t think I ever stopped,” Carly shrugged, though her internal monologue from the library was coming back to her, “but things do feel… different, I guess.”

“Different how?”

“Just different, it feels like we’re not as connected as we were before, you know?”

“Hmmm”

“What do you mean, hmm?”

Alicia sighed, scuffing her boot against the nearest tree “maybe it’s a good thing, you know? That things are different? You guys have been friends for so long, and in all honesty, he’s been quite clueless about everything. Maybe it’s time to… I don’t know… move on?”

If Carly wasn’t high, she might have been angry, but the weed addled part of her brain told her that maybe Alicia had a point. Things had been different, for more reasons than one.

“Maybe.” Carly relented, “we’ll just see how the rest of term goes.”

* * *

But if how the next few weeks went were any indication for how the term, or hell, even the year was going to go, Carly was ready to pack up and move to the most remote island she could find. Her and Alicia’s conversation plagued her, as she found herself spending more and more time with George. It used just to be her and Fred, but now George would often settle beside her in the common room. Not only that, but she didn’t seem to mind, George was a much better study partner than Fred, who often served as a distraction. She found her gaze more often than not drifting to the younger twin, who chewed his lip when he didn’t understand something or would hum absentmindedly if he was reading something he found interesting.

It made her head swirl. She felt like her brain was stuck on a merry-go-round and couldn't get off. She had convinced herself that this newfound focus on George was just natural. She was just delving more into their friendship, that was all. She noticed things about Lee! Like how... he… was allergic to strawberries. Yeah, she noticed things about all of her friends.

It would have helped more if the tournament hadn’t thrown the whole school into a tizzy. As October 31st drew closer and closer, the more excited the student body became. 

Angelina put her name in the goblet the following Saturday. It had become a regular occurrence for students to hang out in the great hall during weekends to watch others put their names in the flaming goblet.

The Bauxbaton lot had flounced through that morning, in manicured lines placing their names in one by one. 

Carly couldn’t help but hope that Fleur would be chosen. She seemed really sweet and would at least be a tolerable winner. 

The Durmstrang students put their names in on their own time, often congregating with the Hogwarts students in the great hall.

“It’s warmer here than on the ship,” one boy had told Carly.

Avoiding Karkarof had been relatively easy. He didn’t seem to spend too much time up at the castle, and the only time she had seen him other than at the welcome feats was when he personally escorted Victor Krum to put his name in the goblet. His eyes had settled on her in the hall, with the same confused and searching look he had given her at the feast. Luckily, the twins bounded into the hall with their completed ageing potion, distracting her from the creeping sense of unease the Durmstrang headmaster gave her.

“We’ve done it!” Fred laughed, raising the potion above his head to the cheers of the other students. 

“Cooked it up this morning!” George added

The other students in the hall whooped and cheered. There wasn’t much of a popularity contest at Hogwarts, but if you asked anyone who the most well-liked students were, Fred and George would probably be somewhere at the top of that list. And even though their high jinks could be irritating, moments like this really got the rest of the student body laughing and cheering for them. 

They weren't the only ones who had been annoyed about the age limit. Plenty of others had been complaining about it as well. 

Among all the cheers and clapping, Hermione sat beside Carly, scoffed, rolling her eyes at the twins.

“What’s with the doubt, Granger?” Fred quipped, sitting down next to the younger girl and tossing an arm around her shoulders, “this right here is a foolproof plan.”

“Well, considering two fools came up with it, I highly doubt it’s foolproof,” Hermione sniffed, looking disapprovingly at the two beakers of ageing potion clasped in the twins’ hands. “Dumbledore drew that age line himself, and I highly doubt someone as brilliant as Dumbledore would be fooled by something as pathetically dimwitted as an ageing potion.”

“Ah, but that’s why this plan is so brilliant!” Fred grinned

“Because it's so pathetically dimwitted,” George finished, shooting both Hermione and Carly a wink before hopping up from the bench “now come on, Fred, time for our eternal glory!”

The boys downed their ageing potion and hopped over the age line.

A cheer rose up from the waiting students, all excited to see that the twins' plans had so far worked.

High Fiving each other, the twins dropped their names into the goblet.

For a moment, it seemed to work. The flames only flickered slightly as the two slips of parchment fell into them.

But then a great flash of blue light. And the twins were hurled backwards across the great hall. A collective gasp rose from the students, and several people rushed over to where the twins had been tossed.

Carly also gasped, jumping up from her seat.

The twins had landed hard on the hall’s stone floor, but the fall didn’t seem to be what was wrong with the two.

In the time it had taken them to fly from the cup to their spot on the floor, only a few meters away, they had both sprouted magnificent gray beards.

Carly couldn't help it. She started laughing.

Her laughter seemed to break the shock of the situation because moments later, both Fred and Goerge erupted in laughter, hunched over, tears streaming down their faces at the sight of one another. The rest of the students followed, and soon the whole hall was doubled over with laughter.

“I see you have just found out the effects of trying to trick my age line!” a voice announced.

Both Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall had entered the hall, while Dumbledore was freely laughing along with the rest of the students. McGonagall’s face was set in a stony grimace, clearly trying not to yell. If Dumbledore found it funny, then there was no need to get angry.

“I suggest you both head to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey is already treating some of your fellow students from similar incidents. However, I must confess that none of their beards quite match yours. Truly magnificent!”

The professor's eyes were sparkling behind his half-moon spectacles.

“How is it they get away with everything?” Hermione asked Carly shaking her head in disbelief

“Not everything,” Carly grinned, nudging the younger girl “they spend most Saturdays in detention. I'm so used to my Saturdays being twin free days it's almost jarring when they are actually around on the weekend.”

“I’m used to spending my weekends in the library. Can’t even do that anymore,” Hermione huffed. Shooting an annoyed look at the Durmstrang students, “Krum has taken to spending his time there, and so has his fan club. They’re always tittering and carrying on. Can’t get any work done in there.”

Carly just laughed. Hermione loved the library more than anyone she knew. 

“I’m sure it will settle down. Once everyone gets used to the idea of him being here.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.” Hermione sniffed. “Quidditch players, am I right?”

“Too right.”

* * *

Halloween was always one of Carly’s favourite holidays at Hogwarts. The feast alone was enough to make it memorable. It was floating jack O’lanterns, swarms of live bats, and the food. Oh, the food. 

Carly was used to stuffing herself with caramel apples and cinnamon popcorn. But this Halloween feast was different, and Carly was so nervous she could barely touch a thing. 

The whole school had been in such a tizzy for the past twenty-four hours no one had been able to eat much. Except for the twins who had been shovelling pumpkin pasties down their gobs for the entirety of the feast.

“What is it with Weasley boys?” Carly grimaced, shaking her head at Fred, who had pastry crumbs all over his robes. “You lot are like vacuums with food. Where does it all go?”

“Weef gof too boold muffle” Fred said through a mouthful of pasty. 

“I’m sorry you what?” Alicia frowned, shooting him a disgusted look. “Please never speak with your mouth full ever again.

“I said,” Fred repeated, swallowing the rest of the pasty in his mouth, “we’ve got to build muscle. Food builds muscle.”

“Protein builds muscle. Not pastries,” Carly countered, rolling her eyes at him. 

“Protein, pastries, same thing,” Fred grinned, shooting Carly a wink that made the butterflies in her stomach wake up. 

“This is why George has a nicer body,” Alicia quipped, making George choke on his pastry. 

“I resent that'' Fred frowned “we’re identical. Built the exact same.”

“Hardly, I've seen you both in the changeroom. My vote goes to George.” Alicia countered, “Angie, where’s your vote?”

“For what?” The other girl asked. She had been engrossed in a conversation with Lee.

“Whose got the nicer body. Fred or George.”

“We’re not pieces of meat, you know!”

“Shut up, George. Who's got your vote, Angie?”

“Hmm, tough one. But I think Fred.”

Carly felt her grip on her fork tighten slightly.

“Okay, 50/50 split,” Alicia reasoned “where’s Bells? She’ll break the tie.”

Alicia stood up in her seat and looked around the Gryffindor table for the other chaser, Katie Bell, finally spotting her a few seats down from them.

“Oi! Bells!” 

The younger girl looked up, flicking her long dark hair over her shoulder. “What’s up, Spinner.”

“Which twin?”

“Which twin what?”

“Which twin has the better body?”

“Oooh, tough,” the younger girl said, looking between both Fred and George. Fred flashed her a wink. George just looked embarrassed. 

“George. Nicer shoulders, more defined abs.” Katie concluded though she shot Fred a wink, “But don’t worry, Freddie, you’re still very handsome.”

George was beet red, Fred looked pissed.

“Well, this is bullshit!” He insisted, tossing down his pasty looking murderous, “You’ll pay for this one, Spinner.”

“I’ll be waiting, Weezer.”

The quidditch team usually referred to one another in different variations of their last names. Katie was Bells, Alicia was Spinner, Angie was Johnny, Harry was potato (he was still pissed about this), Oliver had been woodchip, and Fred and George were Weezer and Wesley, respectively. 

By the time the pudding had been cleared, Fred still looked pissed, George looked like he wanted to climb into a hole, and Carly couldn’t stop picturing him topless.

Soon, all thoughts of the ‘Fred vs. George’ debate were driven from her mind when Dumbledore stood up, signalling that it was time for the champions to be chosen.

“Welcome, friends!” He announced, “tonight, our friendly competition starts!”

The hall thundered with applause. 

“Shortly, out champions will be chosen, and preparation for the first task will begin. If you are chosen, please come up and then exit through the door to my right” he gestured to the door beside the teacher’s table.

He then approached the goblet, gently tapping it with his wand. The blue flames seemed to curdle and swell before spitting out a single piece of paper, which fluttered down into the headmaster’s outstretched hand. 

“The Bauxbaton champion will be; Fleur Delacore!”

Carly whooped and cheered. She was glad it was Fleur, though it seemed quite a few of the Bauxbaton students were not. She spotted quite a few putting their heads down on the table, shoulders shaking.

Fleur jumped up, shaking hands first with Dumbledore before exiting through the door that Carly knew led to the trophy room.  
The flames swelled again, propelling another slip of paper into the air.

“The Durmstang champion is: Victor Krum!”

The cheers for Krum were definitely louder than they had been for Fleur.

He also shook hands with Dumbledore before following Fleur through the door.

The hall seemed to hold its breath. This was the moments Hogwarts had been waiting for. There was not only school pride riding on this champion, but also house pride.

A moment later, a piece of paper shot out. And the hall was deadly silent, as Dumbledore readout, “And the final champion, the Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory.”

Carly barely heard Fred mutter, “git”. As the table to their right exploded in cheers.

Hufflepuff didn’t often get the spotlight, but they certainly had it now.

Cedric jumped up, clearly embarrassed by the attention but also ecstatic from being chosen.

He, too, shook Dumbledores hand before the headmaster directed him towards the door the other two champions had passed through.

“We have our champions!” Dumbledore announced, turning towards the hall, “They are now being briefed on what is to come, the first task will take place at the end of November-”

But he was cut off. As the flames from the goblet began to swell, this time more violently, thrashing about in the cup as if they were possessed, drawing all attention to the flaming beacon.

It spat out one last piece of paper, which landed on the floor in front of the stunned headmaster. Who picked it up and read allowed the name on it: 

“Harry Potter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! Everyone's comments have been so great, they keep me writing knowing that people are actually reading :)


	13. Tattoos and Detention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> eeeeppppp I'm so sorry!!!! This update took me longer than I wanted. I decided to go back to school this semester and it's taking up more time than it used to. I took last semester off because of illness and that in itself is making this term more difficult, though writing is my happy place. I can't wait for you to read this chapter, I've been waiting to write this one forever so I hope you like it. 
> 
> Hope you're all staying safe, washing your hands, and wearing a mask!
> 
> Lots of love
> 
> _Chie <3 _

_Hi Aidan,_

_I hope your week in Brazil was fun. I’m expecting you to send me some Brazilian sweets as you promised, so best get on that. I’m sure you’ve seen the daily prophet and can understand why I’m desperate for some sweets. It’s been a right madhouse. The whole school seems to have been flipped upside down, shaken, and then left on its side. The other schools are pissed that Hogwarts has two entries, and the other houses (especially Hufflepuff) are pissed that Gryffindor now has a champion. They feel as if we’ve stolen their thunder. I would agree with them if it weren’t for the fact that Harry didn’t enter himself in the tournament. I’m sure you’ve seen the rubbish in the daily prophet, don’t even get me started about what’s in witch weekly, though part of me hopes that you’re not an avid reader of that publication. I’d hate for you to come to the first task with a preconceived idea of Harry. He’s honestly not one for the spotlight. It just seems like no matter where he goes, something is happening. The boy attracts terrible luck like your right arm attracts bludgers (I do hope you’re properly on the mend now, please never trust Shelby’s healer skills again). You also mentioned your brother is working on the first event? Give a girl a hint? Just kidding, but you know, if you DO want to give me a clue, I wouldn’t tell a soul, swear on it. I’m nervous and excited about the first task. Nervous, because who knows what Harry’s going up against, and excited because you’re going to be there. Sorry if that’s cheesy, but I am looking forward to seeing you in person._

_See you soon,_

_Carly_

Carly folded her letter into an envelope and cast a wary eye at the library wall clock. It was an hour to curfew. She would have to hurry if she wanted to make it to the owlery in time.

She had been writing more and more to Aidan over the past three weeks.

Since Harry’s name had been drawn from the goblet, it felt like the whole world was on fire, and he was a lifeline to the normality on the outside. 

Ron and Harry hadn’t spoken since Halloween, and it felt like the whole school had turned their nose up at the Gryffindors. Even Marcie was unusually cool to her in Ancient Runes.

The working theory amongst the other houses was that Gryffindor had conspired to make sure Harry was chosen to be a champion, which was fucking ridiculous. 

Anyone who had seen his face when Harry’s name was pulled should have known that he hadn’t put his name in, that he didn’t want to be a champion.

It didn’t help that Fred and George seemed to think the whole thing was a joke. Something she had continuously snapped at them for. It seemed to be getting through to George, who now refrained from making comments about it around her and would shush Fred when he would. 

“Whatcha working on Carls.”

Speak of the devil.

“Oh hey George,” she sighed leaning back in her library chair to look up at him, “Just doing some letter writing.”

He dropped into the empty seat next to her “writing to our pal Lynch?”

“Our pal?”

“I like to think you write extensively about Fred and I.”

She laughed “can’t say I’ve mentioned you much, he has heard an awful lot about Alicia though.”

He clutched his chest in mock hurt “I’m wounded Halloway, truly. Are you going back to the common room? Lee was hoping to corner you for your transfiguration diagrams.” 

“I was about to head to the owlery actually.”

“Great! I was too.”

She cocked a suspicious eyebrow at him “really, where’s your letter?”

He shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets “just wanted to hang out with the owls, really”

She snorted, gathering up her stuff and stuffing it into her bag. “Ah yes, the only birds you like to entertain.”

“Har. har.”

”Where’s Fred?”

“Detention.”

“Without you?”

“I’m a good boy Carly, didn’t you know?”

She just laughed, his cheeky expression said anything but ‘good boy’.

“Well come on then, good boy.” she gathered up her things and wrapped her scarf around her neck. 

The November chill had begun to seep into the castle walls and she was scarcely seen without her scarf, or the pair of mittens Mrs. Weasley had knit her two years ago.

Leaving the library, the two of them made their way towards the transfiguration courtyard, only to be stopped just outside of the courtyard by a giggling Ravenclaw fifth year she didn’t recognize.

“Hey, Freddie! I meant to pass this on to you at breakfast.” the girl shoved a note into George’s hand before running away, looking coyly over her shoulder.

“I’m George,” he muttered angrily, shoving the letter into the pocket of his robes. “Merlin, you’d think the lack of wonky nose would give it away.”

Carly raised an eyebrow at him. The twins usually didn’t take it too much to heart when people confused them.

“Don’t be mean about Fred’s nose. It’s very endearing!” she laughed, nudging him before adding, “but who was that, and what was that?”

“Hell if I know,” George said, “Fred’s got a few admirers.”

“Funny. I’ve never heard him mention anything.”

“He’s not interested in any of them if you were wondering.” He supplied, though his mouth was twisted into a dissatisfied expression.

Carly just hmmd, hiking her bag further onto her shoulder. The now ever present feeling of confusion swirled through her, making her bight down on the inside of her cheek.

“And you? What about your fan club?”

George let out a short laugh, though his expression flickered slightly. “I don’t have a fan club.”

“Come on!” Carly laughed “don’t be coy.”

“I’m not. Freddie’s always been the star with girls,” George shrugged, “I’m usually passed over, or people think I’m Fred like that girl did.”

Carly frowned, sensing the downtrodden undertone in his statement.

“Well, I’m sure that’s not true.”

George shrugged again “to most people, I’m just Fred 2.0, a Fred lookalike.”

He was trying to be casual but there was a touch of bitterness in his voice.

Carly couldn’t help the guilt that rose in her chest. In more ways than one, she might have contributed to that line of thinking. She had, after all, largely ignored him for the past three years. And what he had said about people overlooking him, favouring his brother, she had how it weighed on him. 

On more than one occasion, he’d had to stand back while Fred took the spotlight.

The rest of the walk to the owlery was quiet, Carly stewing in confusion and guilt. 

Calling down Gia, Carly gave her owl a quick scratch under the beak before letting her fly off into the moonlight.

George was staring up at the sleeping owls, when she looked over at him an idea suddenly came to her. 

“See a bird you like?” she teased.

“Yeah, I think so,” he mused, lips twitching slightly. “It’s nearly curfew. We should head back.”

“Mmmm, no. I don’t think we’re ready to go back to the common room yet.”

He looked at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. “I knew you were a troublemaker Halloway, but trying to drag me into it is just dastardly.”

She grinned, tugging on his arm “come on! We have an appointment on the third floor.”

The third floor of the castle was mostly unused and was the perfect place to set up shop. He wanted to be different from Fred? Well, she had a solution.

She ignored his questions, telling him he would find out once they got to the third floor.

Dragging him into an empty classroom, she sat him down at one of the empty desks before ensuring the door was locked.

“Really, Carls, if you wanted to have your way with me, we could have stayed in the owlery. I do like an audience.”

“Oh shut it, you.” though her cheeks burned at his comment, “You’re my first client.”

“I’m not paying for something I can get with my own hand, thanks.”

She whacked him across the head with her bag. 

“Alright, alright, jeez, I was just joking.” he rubbed his head ruefully “could you just tell me what this is all about?”

Carly pulled the small, handheld tattoo machine out of her bag. “You want to feel different from Fred, so… What about a tattoo.”

He looked at her, eyes wide, clearly shocked at her suggestion.

Then she started second-guessing herself. It was a stupid idea. Of course, he wouldn’t want her tattooing him, especially since she had just told him he was her first client.

“Sorry, no. It’s stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking. If it helps, I’ve given myself a few! But no. It’s dumb I shouldn’t have—”

“Carly!” he cut off her rambling, “that sounds awesome!”

She couldn’t help the massive smile that spread across her face. “Really?”

“Really.” he grinned back, “I’ve seen your art. I trust you.”

Her heart felt like it was going to explode, a warm fuzzy feeling enveloping her chest.

“Okay, pick a design.” she pulled her notepad out of her bag and tossed it to him. “It will have to be somewhere teachers won’t see.”

He looked up from the pages of her notepad, eyebrows raised.

“Would you stop making everything dirty.” she swatted the back of his head. “How about behind your ear? Your hair will hide it.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he grinned, going back to the notebook. He spent a while flipping through her designs before turning back to her.

“How about you surprise me,” he suggested, putting down the notebook. 

“Surprise you?”

“Yeah, give me an original, never been seen before, Halloway couture if you will.”

She mulled it over, her artist brain conjuring ideas before a design popped into her head, clear as day. 

“I think I have something,” she announced.

Kicking her shoes off, she hopped up onto the desk beside his chair, swinging her legs so that one was behind his back and hooked on the middle rung of the chair’s back. Her other leg in front of him, allowing Carly to plant her foot firmly on his thigh.

“You expect me not to make a joke?”

“Oh, shut it, you.” she laughed, pulling a bobble off her wrist (she had been growing out her hair this year), and tossing it to him “now put your hair up.”

She readied her tattoo needle while he swept his long hair into a topknot. 

Of course, he would look good with his hair pulled back. She’d have to try and wrestle Fred into a topknot.

“I feel like Bill.” George laughed “does it suit me?”

“Sure does.” she felt a blush creep up her neck, so she kept her eyes on the needle she was heating with her wand. “Now tip your head back and look away from me, maybe rest it on my knee?”

He leaned back, resting his head on her thigh and turning away from her.

Tapping her wand against the skin behind his ear, she gently cast a wound cleaning spell she had been using on herself. It was the best way to clean the area with no isopropyl or sterilizing potion.

“That wasn’t so bad,” he quipped.

“That was the cleaning spell.”

“Oh.”

Placing the tattoo needle extension on the end of her wand. She steadied her left hand on his forehead, pushing her fingers into his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp.

“Ready?”

“On a scale of one to ten, how much does it OW—”

She cut him off, pressing the needle into his skin.

“You could have warned me!’ he gasped.

“Stop talking! You don’t want me to mess up, do you?” she scolded. 

He stayed quiet after that. Though one of his hands snaked up, tightly gripping the ankle of the foot that was planted on his thigh.

Lucy always said that artists had two brains. A brain in their hands and a brain in their head. While your hands would be doing one thing, your mind was doing another. Because her hands were carefully etching the tattoo into his skin with precision while her mind was going a million miles a second.

The warmth of his palm was seeping through her knee-high socks, and despite the mental berating she was giving herself, she couldn’t ignore the flutter in the pit of her stomach.

It didn’t help that she had to lean in close to him in order to tattoo. The scent of apple and sage seemed to linger on her tongue every time she breathed in. 

This was a perfectly friendly position to be in, right? 

Friendly friends. Very friendly friends, she found herself repeating in her head like a crazy woman.

Just focus on the tattoo, damnit! She chided herself.

She let out a breath, focusing with renewed fervour. 

With the last line etched, she sat back, pulling a pocket compact from her bag and handing it to him. “Here, check it out.”

He sat up, tilting his head and the mirror so he could see the small tattoo she had done behind his ear.

It was a small firecracker, its tail lit, and the name “Weasley” was written on the side of it. Indicating it was a firecracker of Georges making (he made all the fireworks that the twins would use.)

“Well?”

He was silent, staring at his new tattoo in the mirror.

“You hate it, don’t you?” she said defeatedly “here, I know a spell that will make it fade. You’ll have to use it a few times, but—”

“Carly, it’s amazing.” George cut her off, giving her ankle a squeeze, his thumb tracing the bone of her ankle. “Seriously, it’s perfect. You’re insanely talented.”

She couldn’t help her burning cheeks, and she wished his hand wasn’t causing fireworks in her stomach. She was very grateful for the dim lantern light that filled the classroom.

“I just need to re-shade one section if you don’t mind,” Carly asked, ignoring his compliment and vanishing away the excess ink that was left on his skin.

“Shade away.” he grinned, turning his head and resting it on her leg again.

Lapsing back into a comfortable silence, she began going back over portions of the tattoo that just needed a little touch-up, focusing mostly around gently shading the outside of the tattoo. 

Just as she took the needle off of his skin, the door to the classroom banged open, causing them both to jump.

“Look what we have here. I was wondering when you’d finally make a move weasel.”

Fraser Knott and Daniela Stork, the sixth year Slytherin prefects, were standing in the doorway. Fraser looked excited about the prospect of not only finding her and (who he probably assumed was Fred) in a compromising position but also taking away points from Gryffindor. Daniela just looked mildly surprised. 

Daniela was the only Slytherin aside from Adrien Pucey that Carly had ever got on with. Daniela had two dads, and she and Carly had bonded over their similar upbringing back in second year when they had landed detention together. And while they didn’t speak often, they had always shared a familiar sense of comradery and shared experience. 

“Come on, Fraser,” Daniela said, tugging on her fellow prefect's wrist, clearly suspecting if they took points from one of the twins, they would end up with bugs in their breakfast cereal.

“No, no, this is way too good.” Fraser grinned.

Carly had slyly tucked her tattoo needles back into her bag.

Snogging in a deserted classroom was one thing. Giving another student an illegal tattoo was a whole other bucket of flobberworms.

“Halloway and Weasley finally get together in a classroom?” he was laughing, a cruel grin spread over his face. “But it’s also after hours. So let’s say twenty points each, for being out past curfew and for lewd behaviour. And let’s also tack detention onto that, shall we?”

George looked livid, his nostrils flared, and jaw set angrily, the hand on her ankle squeezed a bit too tightly.

“Ow! George, my ankle!” she gasped.

“Oh, sorry!” he let go, but this only made Fraser laugh more.

“Oh, this is even better. Halloway’s shacking up with both twins, always thought you were a slut.”

This made George lunge from his chair, but Daniela was quicker, whipping out her wand and pointing it at her fellow prefect.

“Watch your mouth Fraser” she snarled. “I really don’t appreciate you calling women sluts, especially a woman who is a friend of mine.”

Fraser just looked down at her wand wearily. Clearly pissed, his fellow prefect and housemate was standing up to him like this. 

“Given Fraser’s lovely choice of words, why don’t we forget about that detention. Sound good?” Daniela asked, shooting Carly a pained smile. There was nothing she could do about the points, but Carly was grateful enough for no detention.

“Come on, George.” Carly urged, sliding off the desk and slipping her feet back into her mary janes.

Mouthing a quick thanks to Diana as they passed, Carly pulled George towards the Gryffindor Commonroom.

Just before they reached the portrait of the fat lady Carly suddenly remembered something.

“Oh! Wait!” she cried, stopping them in their tracks “here, lean down.”

George stooped, so she was able to apply a sealing charm over the new tattoo gently. 

“Keep the sealing charm on for two days, and then wash gently with water,” she instructed sternly. “The last thing we need is for madam Pomfrey to find out. “

“Sealing charm for two days, then wash gently with water. Got it,” he repeated diligently. 

“Good. You’re a great client” Carly grinned.

“And you’re a great artist,” he grinned back, giving her shoulder a squeeze “now let's get back to the common room before Peeves comes around.”

Climbing through the portrait hole, Lee and Alicia waved them over the armchairs by the window.

“Oi, nice hair George!” Alicia quipped, studying him with sharp hazel eyes, “you should put your hair up more often.”

“Yeah, mate, looks very modern.” Lee agreed before turning to Carly “hey Halloway, could I steal your transfiguration diagrams?”

“What happened to yours?”

“Venomous Tentactula got to them.”

“And by that, he means he never drew any,” Alicia interjected, rolling her eyes at him.

“I’ll give them to you tomorrow,” Carly laughed, kicking her feet up onto the coffee table between the armchairs. She suddenly noticed more than one missing party. “Where’s Angie?”

“Oh, detention,” Lee shrugged “she and Fred got in trouble for goofing off in potions.”

“Aren’t you potions partners with Angie?” Carly asked, looking at Alicia

“Oh, err, we decided to switch things up this year. I’m with Miryam Abend now.”

“And I’m stuck with this loser.” Lee sighed dramatically, nudging George with his foot. “Really, how am I supposed to get anything done when I’m forced to listen to Angie and Fred giggle for two hours every Monday morning.”

Carly just nodded, a familiar weight dropping into her stomach.

Alicia sensing the shift in Carly’s mood, quickly pulled witch weekly out of her bag. “Have you seen the article on the champions yet? That Skeeter lady seems to be a piece of work, the way she dragged up Harry’s past was awful.”

“Yeah, terrible,” Carly agreed distractedly. She was suddenly regretting her decision not to continue on with potions. “I think I’m going to go to bed.” she announced, gathering her stuff up and heading over to the girl’s staircase.” 

“I’ll be up in a minute!” Alicia called after her.

Carly just waved back at her friend over her shoulder.

How had tonight gone from the high of doing her first tattoo to the feeling of anger and jealousy that had overtaken her?

Dropping her book bag to the floor she stripped off her uniform and unclipped her bra. Not bothering to pick up the mound of clothes from the floor she climbed into bed in just her knickers and drew the bed curtains and pretended to sleep.

A few minutes later she heard the door open.

“Carly?” Alicia called softly “do you want to talk about it?”

Carly stayed quiet. She was sleeping after all.

“Well, I’m here if you want to talk.”

She didn’t deserve Alicia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments keep me writing! I love knowing what people think of the story, and please offer any insight or suggestions!! 
> 
> Love
> 
> _Chie_


	14. Rumours and Arguments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know that TikTok sound thats like "Hey... hey... how y'all doing?"
> 
> well, that's me coming back. Honestly, I've been so busy with midterms I haven't been able to write at all. But I never abandon a fic so don't worry this won't be left hanging!
> 
> Where a mask, wash your hands, social distance!
> 
> lots of love
> 
> _Chie <3_

The Hogwarts rumour mill was probably the most efficient rumour mill on the isle of Britain. Ginny had once said if Hogwarts could mill wheat as fast as it mills rumours, global hunger wouldn’t be an issue. 

By the end of the week, everyone and their owl had heard that George Weasley and Carly Halloway were caught snogging in a deserted classroom.

The details of their supposed rendezvous had gone from a tame snog to George bending her over a desk.

Their friends knew what had actually happened, but it wasn’t as if Carly could go and say she’d been giving another student a tattoo. 

Hogwarts was used to juicy gossip of broom cupboard hookups that didn’t guarantee detention or points lost, giving another student an illegal tattoo? That did guarantee some form of punishment, and Carly didn’t want her supplies taken away.

Which was why Carly just grit her teeth and dealt with the rumour and giggles that seemed to follow her through the hallways.

Worst of all were the girls that would come up and ask if this meant Fred was free reign.

It seemed George was right. 

Fred did have a fan club, and it seemed as if rumours of her and Fred were the only thing stopping others from making a move on the eldest twin.

Carly was used to that rumour. The Carly and Fred gossip had followed her since their third year. And that was gossip she liked. She always felt it might make Fred realize how good they would be together. It was also friendly gossip, ‘oh wouldn’t Carly and Fred be so cute together? I think they are such a sweet couple’ was the basis for those whispers.

This gossip was different.

A lot of it was mean-spirited and jealousy-driven.

Many people had decided that Carly was sleeping with both twins, leading them both on and hoarding two of the best-looking blokes in the school for herself. 

As if.

Alicia, for her part, had taken to threatening people who dared to bring it up in Carly’s presence.

Fred just found it funny.

“Come on, Carly! Quit hoarding me! I’m an available agent!” He’d exclaimed during transfiguration when she asked if he wanted to be partners for their midterm project.

George?

Well, she wasn’t really sure what George thought of it.

Unlike Fred, he didn’t bring it up, sensing that doing so would only aggravate Carly, who had taken to throwing quill tips at Fred anytime he started on the subject.

Instead, he talked to her about his tattoo. Revelling in the lines that graced his skull.

He seemed to be planning his next one already, a set of cards on his thigh. She’d told him about the dagger on her own thigh, and since then, he’d wanted one in that area too.

She’d been doing small ones on herself.

She had a small collection of flowers on her hips.

Alicia had Carly’s name and a broomstick on her butt, though she was planning on getting a bigger one once Carly was more established.

Tattooing was a distraction, but a distraction she was grateful for.

The rumours were one thing, but the tournament was another.

It was a day before the first task, and she was hardly able to choke down her supper.

Not only would she be meeting Adian face to face for the first time (officially, that is), but she was also about to watch one of her friends face down an unnamed terror. She wasn’t sure how much of a first date it was going to be, as he was going to have to watch her cringe and scream at the event they were watching.

Charlie’s sudden appearance at Hogwarts was giving her a hunch that she hoped wasn’t correct. 

Harry and Hermione had disappeared somewhere, presumably preparing for the task.

Ron was sitting with their friend group.

He had begun hanging around them more often, refusing to look at or even acknowledge his best friend.

No matter how many times Carly tried to talk to him about it, he remained set in his mood. She suspected he knew that Harry hadn’t put his name in and was just using that as a shield for what his true feelings were.

“I get it, you know,” George whispered, leaning closer to her, nodding at Ron, who was talking Quidditch with Alicia and Lee.

“Get what?”

“How he feels. You know, overshadowed.”

“George.” Carly sighed. “I wish you would stop. Fred does not overshadow you.”

“Glad you think so.” he shrugged, taking a bite of his dinner roll.

“I know so.” she insisted, nudging him with her elbow. “Haven’t you enjoyed being the center of attention this week?”

“I’d like to be known for more than supposedly taking you over a desk.”

She felt her cheeks burn but ignored the mixed emotions that rose when he said that.

“Well, if it helps, you're not the only Weasley brother who seems to feel overshadowed.” She offered, looking down the table at Ron.

A shadow passed across George’s face, his jaw set. “Yeah, that’s a right mess, isn’t it?”

“Have you spoken to him at all?” Carly asked. Out of all of his brothers, Ron seemed to be closest to George.

“I’ve tried. Git’s as stubborn as Charlie. I felt like mum trying to convince Charlie to cut his hair.” he sighed.

“Or Percy trying to get you two to behave?”

“Oi! Don’t compare me to Percy.” he gasped in mock hurt.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Carly placated, picking at her uneaten steak and ale pie.

“Nervous?” Angelina noted, leaning across the table and taking in her friend’s uneaten dinner.

“Terrified. I wish we knew for sure what Harry was facing. I might feel a bit better.” she sighed, tossing down her fork defeatedly. Her stomach was too full of nervous butterflies.

“Not about Harry.” Angelina elaborated, “that boy’s faced you-know-who three times and Woods’ quidditch practices for three years. Whatever this tournament throws at him, he’ll be fine. I was talking about meeting Aidan for the task.”

Next to her, George choked on his peas.

Carly shot Angie a ‘be quiet look.’

She wasn’t exactly hiding her meeting (date? Hangout?) With Aidan, but for some reason, she hadn’t mentioned it to Fred of George.

Part of her had wanted to mention it, maybe see if it sparked a reaction in Fred.

But the knowledge that he would tell George was what made her refrain from mentioning it.

“You’re meeting up with him tomorrow?” George asked, eyebrows raised

“Err, yeah, his brother works with Charlie, so he got tickets to come watch with me.” Carly shrugged, for some reason feeling incredibly guilty.

“Oh. Cool.” George supplied, though his expression showed that he didn’t think it was cool at all.

“Yep,” Carly affirmed, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

A tense silence stretched between them. Looking very guilty at having brought it up, Angie turned to join Lee and Fred’s conversation.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” George suddenly asked, cutting through their awkward silence.

“What?”

“Meeting up with a guy you barely know? He’s a lot older too.”

Carly felt like she’d been slapped.

“I’ve been speaking to him for two months! I write to him more than my aunts.”

George scratched his neck, looking frustrated. “I mean, how well can you know someone through letters? And he’s what? 22? You turn 17 in June.”

“Why are you just bringing this up now?” she snapped.

“I’ve always thought it was odd, but-”

“Odd?” Carly seethed, “odd that a guy wants to talk to me? Or odd that it’s someone famous?”

“Carly, that’s not what I mean!” George argued, “I’m just worried, is all.”

“I can take care of myself, George.”

“I never said you couldn’t.”

“You were implying it!”

“All I said was that you don’t really know this guy!”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” She cried

“It means he probably only thinks you’re good for one thing!” He snapped

It was only because she was too stunned to respond did she notice the hall had gone silent, everyone watching their argument curiously.

“Well, at least someone wants me.” Carly snapped, finding her gaze sliding to Fred, whose fork had stopped halfway to his mouth, eyes widened with shock at the argument between her and George.

Pushing her plate back, she grabbed her bag and her cloak and stomped out of the hall. As she passed the Ravenclaw table, she heard the girl who gave George a note whisper to her friends, “I always thought she was a sket.” 

Anger choked her throat, and her eyes blurred with tears. But she found herself moving towards the dungeons rather than the common room, and it was quiet there. Carly didn’t have to worry about anyone following her.

Carly never considered herself an angry person or someone easy to upset. But these past two months felt as if she’d been on edge the whole time.

When she was 13, her aunt had gone on a bumbling rant about teenage hormones and how she might find herself being more emotional. Something about estrogen and testosterone, and how maybe she would start looking at people in different ways? But she’d always felt immune to that because everything was sure. She knew who she was, who her family was, who she loved, what she wanted to do.

And while she still knew that she would be a tattoo artist, it felt like everything else had sailed into unknown waters with no map or land in sight.

The surety she felt with Fred, the safety her family offered, and the trust she had with her aunts. It was all gone, and worse, the hurt she felt from her argument with George was more than what she felt towards anything else.

She’d fought with George plenty of times. Snips and tiffs over pranks, shouting matches over stupid things.

Their fifth year didn’t see a week pass without the two of them having a row about something stupid.

But now, she hated fighting with him, and even though the rational side of her brain was telling her, she’d done nothing wrong, a small nagging voice in the back of her head felt guilty. 

Not guilty for arguing with George, but guilty for going on a date with Aidan. 

She was so focused on the battle going on inside her head she didn’t notice where she was going or who she had just bumped into.

“I’m so sorry!” She exclaimed, rushing to pick up the scrolls the other person had dropped.

It was only when she noticed the fur-trimmed robes of the other person did she lookup.

Igor Karkaroff was surveying her with the same curiosity he had the first night he’d arrived. His cold gaze bore into her with an intensity that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, and her stomach want to empty its contents.

“You look familiar,” Karkaroff noted, his cold eyes surveying her, “Do you have family at my school?”

“Err not that I know of.” Carly said, handing the durmstrang professor his scrolls back, “Everyone in my family has gone to Hogwarts.”

“What is your last name?”

“I-”

“Carly.” A familiar, nasally voice called out. Saving her from answering.

The potions master swept suddenly between them, a furious look on his face. “You’re late.”

“Late? I’m-” 

Snape shot her a warning look, telling her to play along.

“Right, sorry, professor.” She agreed, following the potions master’s lead.

“I’m afraid I must steal my student away, Karkaroff. She had detention with me, and it seems you’ve been holding her up.”

Karkaroff gave them both a calculating look, “My apologies Professor Snape.”

“Head to my office.” Snape instructed, fixing her with a look that said, ‘don’t argue.’

Seeing no other option, Carly hurried to his office, a sense of dread settling in the pit of her stomach.

Carly had been in Snape's office a few times, and those occasions had been for detention. The room gave her the creeps, jars of potion ingredients filled the shelves, and the ever-present smell of crushed herbs and pickled animal parts seemed to permeate the air. 

Most professors had some personal effects in their office, McGonagall had several Quidditch team photos, and Flitwick had a signed poster from the weird sisters. But Snapes was void of anything that would give the room personality. Just a desk, two hard wooden chairs, and potion ingredients.

The door to the small room banged open, making her jump.

“What did I say about avoiding Karkaroff?” The older man snapped.

“I ran into him!” Carly snapped back, “I do go to school here. I’m allowed to be in the hallways.”

“And what pray tell are you doing down here? I seem to remember your house haunts the east towers.” He accused, ignoring her cheek.

“I was taking a walk,” she mumbled, not wanting to tell her least favourite teacher that she’d had a row about a boy.

“Taking a walk.”

“Yes, for exercise.”

The look he fixed her with was piercing as if he was trying to figure out what she was hiding.

“While that would be a wonderfully simple explanation for your presence, I find myself unable to believe you.”

“But it's true!” Carly cried, feeling her anger rise.

“I’m aware of the company you keep and the activities you get up to.” 

Carly felt her face flush with anger. She couldn't believe a teacher was bringing up those rumours.

“Nothing happened between George and me! I’m not the kind of person who shags someone in empty classrooms,” She snapped angrily. 

Snape raised an eyebrow, “while I find that very assuring, I was referring to Mr. Weasley’s trouble-making habits.”

Her face burned even more, this time out of pure embarrassment.

“I’ll warn you again.” He continued, “it is in your best interest to avoid Karkaroff. Now before you continue to make a fool of yourself, I suggest you head straight back to your common room.”

With a flick of his wand, his office door swung open, and Carly stalked out. Her night had somehow gone from bad to worse.

The roundabout way she took back to the Gryffindor common room ensured she would miss Karkaroff if he were lingering near Snape's office, but it also ensured she would miss the returning dinner crowd. 

She’d had enough of the Hogwarts student body for the day.

The common room was mercifully Weasley boy-free. Only Ginny, who was too preoccupied with her friends to notice Carly’s presence, was in the room. Even still, she moved up the girls’ staircase at lightning speed, hoping to god that her dorm would be empty.

“There you are!”

It wasn’t empty. Alicia and Angelina were sat on their beds, looking as if they had been waiting for her. 

“Did I miss the meeting memo?” Carly asked, dropping her bag onto the floor and kicking it under her bed.

“No, but you do need to get ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“Miss Halloway, you have a date with an international Quidditch star you need to get ready.” Alicia chided 

“Yes, tomorrow, how am I supposed to start getting ready now?”

“You’re hopeless.” Angie sighed, getting up and searching through Carly’s wardrobe.

“I’m glad you two are okay with me going on this date,” Carly said bitterly, eyeing the clothes her two friends had begun pulling from her wardrobe.

Angie froze, holding a cardigan in her hand. “I’m sorry for bringing it up at dinner. I thought Fred and George knew.”

“It’s not your fault. I should have told them. Not sure why I didn’t.”

“George was really out of order with what he said. We all told him so, and if it helps, Fred was propper mad at him.” Alicia added, “They were having quite the argument when we left them in the entrance hall. ”

“I’m sure that will quell the rumours that I'm shagging them both.”

“Look.” Alicia soothed, sitting down next to Carly, “go on your date tomorrow and have fun! Forget the boys and the rumours and try to enjoy yourself.”

“Not sure how much I'm going to enjoy watching Harry fight whatever horrors Charlie brought.”

“At least you’ll have a hot Quidditch player beside you!” Angie added, tossing a pair of jeans at her.

“True, hot quidditch players are always a plus.” Carly reasoned, finding herself smiling more at the prospect of the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are love! The more I get the faster I post ;)


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